


Someone Borrowed

by ItsMeGetOverIt



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Arguing, Daisy raised by her parents, F/M, Family Secrets, Fitz and Lincoln are brothers, Humour, Lola - Freeform, One-Sided Attraction, POV Jemma Simmons, POV Leo Fitz, Papa Coulson, Romance, Step-parent Melinda May, The Wedding Date, failed engagement, gender swap from movie, mama may
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-10
Updated: 2016-11-16
Packaged: 2018-08-20 13:06:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 29,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8250145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsMeGetOverIt/pseuds/ItsMeGetOverIt
Summary: Leopold Fitz Coulson is determined to attend his younger half-brother; Lincoln's wedding with a date. Rather than face the ridicule of his family, and to show up his ex-fiancé, he resorts to finding a last minute escort. Her warm smile, quick mind and charm win over the family, but will she win over Fitz? Filled with twists, turns and laughs this is a wedding that you won't want to miss.She's the best thing he's ever borrowed...**A 'The Wedding Date' AU-gender swap**





	1. Hire Your Date

**Author's Note:**

> I've never done a movie re-write before and I'm actually surprised at how quickly I've written this (in like a month and a half which for me with a mulit-chapter story is AMAZING). The story itself is finished, but I'm still editing and doing some fixes to many of the later chapters and since I'm doing these myself I will miss things too. I'm thinking I should be updating this one or twice a week.  
> But please let me know how I'm doing with it. (not a lot to go on in the first chapter, but I'm meaning in general with the story as I update)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's finally the day for Fitz to leave for America. Now if only he can focus enough to get himself to airport in time and with everything he needs.

Fitz rushed around his small apartment double and triple checking that he had packed everything. He'd just home from pulling an all-nighter so there would be no additional complications from him taking an extended weekend to attend his brother's wedding. He was going to forget something, he just knew it. Two messages were flashing on his answering machine. Hitting play he accidently knocked over the piece of paper that had caused all this recent chaos in his life.

_Leopold Fitz Coulson & Guest,_  
_Mr and Mrs Calvin L. Johnson_  
_request the honour of your presence_  
_to witness the marriage of their daughter_  
_Daisy Skye Johnson_  
_to_  
_Lincoln Campbell Coulson_  
_on Saturday the Tenth of August_  
_at three o'clock at_  
_St. Peter's Parish Church_

His immediate lamenting over his little brother's wedding to the literal girl next door was broken by the voice that he was both eager and fearful to meet.

_"Hi Fitz. It's me, sorry I didn’t get back to you last night but I got your message. All six of them. Listen, sorry to do this to you, but I'm running late this morning so I won't be able to meet you before we go to the airport, like we originally planned. I've organised for a messenger to collect my ticket from your place so we can both get to the airport in time. I know this isn't how you wanted things to go, but Fitz,"_

Fitz found himself pausing with her plane ticket in an envelope in one hand a pile of clothes, he can't remember the last time he wore, in the other. His mind froze when she used that tone, no one had ever said his name like that. He desperately wanted to trust this woman he was yet to even meet. And what’s more strange, a part of him already did.

_"Trust me, your ex-fiancé will rue the day she ever let you go and your family will think we're madly in love. Everything will be fine. I've got to go, but I'll meet you at the airport."_

The tone sounded indicating the end of the message. Just as it sounded, the buzzer for his front door went.

Rushing to the door he opened it, somehow, with his hands still full. The Hermod messenger girl just looked at him bored as she asked for the envelope.

"Right," Fitz exclaimed holding out the pile of clothes. Shaking his hand he quickly held out his other hand. "Sorry."

The brown haired woman took the other side of the envelope and looked at Fitz very confused when he didn't let go.

"This is a plane ticket," he needlessly supplied. "I'm going to America for my brother's wedding. The maid of honour is my ex-fiancé, who I haven't seen since she dumped me and I moved back halfway across the world to try and get away from her. And I've never even met the woman you're bring this to. Who I'm bringing along as my date. Why am I telling you all of this?"

"I don't know," the messenger, who he saw wore a name badge on her Hermod company shirt that read Darcy, answered, giving him the kind of look you give crazies in the street. "Dude, you need to let go."

"I think you're going to have to help me," Fitz pathetically answered honestly.

Darcy gave him another perplexed look before she peeled his fingers away from the envelope until she could get it away from him. Once she had it firmly away from Fitz she started back down the hall, away from his apartment.

Seeing her go, Fitz shut the door and rushed back to his bedroom as he remembered he had yet to grab the lucky travel pendant he wanted to return to Daisy. Grabbing his box of mementos he flicked through the photos, he avoided the corner that still held the small velvet box. Some of the photos were of the four of them only a few years old, together smiling at the park or beach or just in the apartment he'd shared with… _her_. His finger lingered over her face as he traced over her smile.

_"Fitz, it's your father."_ The second recording started. _"Lincoln wanted me to call and confirm that you are bring a date. He just doesn't want people to be feeling sorry for you on his and Daisy's day."_

Fitz's hand recoiled from the picture like his dad's words had burned the image. He dropped the picture and quickly located the pendant.

_"It's just you remember the fiasco the last time you visited, that's what we don’t want repeated. Any ways, we'll see you when you land. If your plane is delayed we'll meet you at the welcome cocktails. Bye!"_

Fitz gathered all his bag and dropped the pendant into a side pocket of his main suitcase. He looked over the Times article written about this woman he was paying to travel with him.

She'd given an interview about life as an escort, what she saw as the science behind it and the evolving view both men and women have on love, sex, and what they want out of life. She seemed well spoken, he also go that impression from their message tag. He now has a string of questions about points she'd made during the article. What did she mean everybody has the exact love-life they believed they deserved?

The door buzzed again. This time it was his taxi. Shoving the article into his suitcase beside the pendant and his socks he rushed to the door and waiting taxi man.

Before Fitz knew it he was carrying his bags towards check in and even more surprising to him, he saw Donnie Gill waiting by the check in desk.

"Fitz!" Donnie cried happily rushing towards his boss.

"No." Fitz snapped before the younger man even reached his side. "No, I'm not doing any more Donnie! I am about to board a plane and fly all the way across the Atlantic to go to the wedding of my kid brother, with my family whom I have been avoiding for the last two years. What could possibly have even happened at Sci-Ops since I left the labs this morning?"

"Seth can't find any of the grant money he was allocated in the usual funds, Sitwell's been hospitalised with- I think they said he'd been shot- the power isn't working on any of the machines in lab 2 which is meant to be running a timed experiment all day. And Radcliff keeps calling to complain about the poor quality of Whitehall's work on his eye-wear and how its setting all his projects back."

Fitz looked at Donnie like he'd spouted another head. "Did you just say Sitwell has been-" He pinched the bridge of his nose. "You know what, it doesn’t matter. I don't have time for this." Fitz took a deep breath as he got to the front of the line.

"Take a bit from Milton's funds, he only just got his grant too, that should help Seth to get going while you find his money. Get the new intern, what’s his name," Fitz clicked his fingers on both hands thinking, "Robbie! He's can keep a cool head, get him to chase up where Seth's money has gone. Bump the tests that were meant to run in lab 2 to lab 9 and lab 9 moved to lab 5 which should be empty today. Call in Mack to cover for Sitwell for this afternoon and at least part of tomorrow, he knows who to speak with about fixing lab 2," he said handing over his paperwork and luggage to the check in clerk who smiled brightly at him.

"What about Radcliff?"

Fitz widened his eyes and threw his hands out, exasperated when he faced his lab assistant again.

"I don't care Donnie, I'm on my holiday!"

Donnie just looked like the lost boy Fitz had been unable to _not_ hire as his lab assistant nearly eighteen months ago. Fitz cursed his inability to just walk away, and Donnie knew he couldn't walk away when he looked at him like that.

" _Please_ Fitz," he begged.

With a groan Fitz rolled his head and offered, "The next time he calls put him through to Mr Pierce's office. Pierce was the idiot who freed Whitehall from the prison of unemployment he can be the one to deal with the complaints about his shoddy work."

Donnie made a note of Fitz's suggestions and beamed when he sent the message through to the team back at the lab.

"Thanks Fitz, you're a life saver."

Fitz just nodded and rolled his eyes.

"Here's your ticket Mr Coulson," the clerk offered holding out the plane ticket.

"Thank you Kat," he offered reading her name tag with what he hoped was a friendly smile.

But he doubted it. He was too nervous about what was to come for him to actually be able to appear friendly.


	2. Passenger 3B

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitz is on the plane and the longer his companion takes the more he's inclined to babble. When she arrives he's more than pleasantly surprised.

In his seat Fitz was reading over the emergency pamphlet for the umpteenth time. He wasn't even reading it- having long ago memorised it. Holding the pamphlet was just giving him something to do while his mind went over all the way things could possibly go wrong.

"First time flying?" a smartly dressed blonde woman asks interrupting his thoughts.

Fitz looks at her confused. First time? The amount of times he's had to travel because Sci-Ops wanted _him_  to be presenting his proposals for grants and innovations. It was almost a laughable thought; his first time flying!

But then suddenly he realised why she'd think that, and given the look she was casting his way she was trying to comfort him.

"It's okay if you're nervous, everyone has those moments," she said in a cool calm voice, that Fitz actually thought sounded like it belonged on the radio.

"Ah, no," he quickly stammered out. "I actually designed these engines and have flown all around the UK. I'm nervous because I'm about to fly home for my brother's wedding. My ex is in the bridal party and the last time I saw her I fell into a pool trying to talk to her. Gave myself a concussion and had to be hospitalised for a week. So you know, gotta make sure I know where all the exits are in case I decide it isn't worth going all the way there and want to bail early."

Mortification flooded Fitz. Why had he just said all of that? Oh no, he was so nervous he was over sharing. Giving the woman a tight smile he stood and made his way to the front of plane and where he _knew_  they hid a well stock mini-bar.

If he could get a couple of drinks in him he could finally calm these nerves and he just might make it through the flight.

Because what if Jemma Simmons didn't get the ticket? Or he spelt her name wrong? What if she didn't make it on time? What if she wasn't at her best? And though he hated the thought- what if she was ugly? Or just not as pretty as Raina? I mean Mack and Bobbi assured him that she was hot and would put anyone to shame, but what if she didn't? When was the last time they saw her? And had Mack even seen her himself or was he going off what Bobbi had told him?

Oh why hadn't he researched her further himself? Why didn't he meet her before agreeing to pay her to come all the way to America to pretend to be his girlfriend for the weekend? This was all a big mistake!

The air-hostess caught him just as he downed a mini bottle of whiskey.

"I'll pay for this," he promised. "I'm not normally a nervous flyer or anything. But I'm on my way to a wedding and my date is about to sit down in 3B in any moment and I need her to look really, really, _really_ good."

The woman, whose name badge read 'Natasha', looked back at the seats and he saw her give a long and very deliberate up down to someone in the business seat section.

"Hello 3B," she practically purred.

Turning to look himself, Fitz felt like the air had been knocked out of his lungs. A shove from the hostess had him start down the way. The clothes she was wearing hugged her figure in a complementary way and the bear arms he could see looked soft and held a gorgeous smattering of freckles up and down them. She was accepting two glasses of champagne and turned offering him one.

"Hi," she greeted and he met her compelling brown eyes. There must have been something in his expression because she quickly went on, "Do I look weird? I must confess, I feel weird; neither too casual nor too smart…"

"You look nice," he jumped in when she started to trail off.

Nice?! Who was he bloody complementing one of his gran's friends? My gosh, this woman could be stunning in a potato sack in his opinion.

"Fitz," she cooed showing him a stunning smile that lit up her whole face.

She leaned in gave him a kiss on the cheek in greeting and Fitz still felt too stunned for his brain to communicate with his mouth beyond what it already had. He tried. Really. He opened his mouth at least twice more but nothing came out so he just smiled, nervously and accepted the flute of champagne.

"I'm sorry we couldn't get off sooner. I know you wanted to settle in before all the festivities started," she apologised taking her seat as Fitz found himself doing the same while still facing her.

Finally his brain and mouth made a connection.

"Work must be crazy."

Blinking slowly he realised what he'd just said.

To an escort.

Forget any evidence that he was a certified genius.

He was an idiot.

Thankfully she didn't comment and just smiled serenely and kindly at him. Turning away from her he closed his eyes and cringed. While she may be everything that Mack, and by extension Bobbi, had promised –he forgot one thing. He was always an absolute idiot around beautiful women. It was a minor miracle that he'd gotten past it to even begin his relationship with Raina.

Fitz stole a few more glances at the stunning Jemma Simmons seated behind him. Each time she looked up from the book she was reading and caught him, she just smiled as if patiently waiting for him to start the conversation.

Finally- _finally-_  he thought of something to start a conversation.

"You know how in the movies the family is always a little bit crazy and no one understands the other but at the end of the day they're family so you know they love each other?"

"Yes," Jemma smiled, looking at him fondly.

"My family's not like that." Her expression froze, confusion dancing across her amber eyes. Fitz quickly went on, "I love my mum. But technically she's my step-mum; so she's not really family. She's more like a hostage."

An amused raised eye brow was the only response she had to his odd share.

Okay, so maybe that wasn't a conversation starter. He might do better if he was functioning on more than three hours sleep from the last 36 hours. A nap would do him good.

And what was the point of forking out for a business ticket if he wasn't going to use the extra space to try and get some shut eye? Fishing out the eye-mask and blanket Fitz downed the last of the champagne and settled himself down for some sleep.

He had no idea just how long he spent trying to quieten his mind, but eventually he did manage to doze off.

Fitz woke with a start and wild flaying of his limbs. After a moment he was able to orientate himself and remember where he was. And who he was with…

Peeking over his seat he saw Jemma in the seat behind him.

"Good morning," she offered warmly looking up from the new book she was reading.

Goodness she looked as perfect now as when she first boarded the plane. How in the name of all that is holy on this Earth did she manage that? They were still at cruising altitude for goodness sake!

"Morning," he crocked back.

Dread coursed through him as he slumped in his seat facing forward again. What did he look like? He'd fallen asleep leaning on the window, and- and what was the wet sensation on his face? Had he been drooling?! Finding a small mirror in the provided package he stole a look at himself.

 _Sweet merciful mother!_  Is that how he looked?!? Bloody hell no one on this plane would believe she'd stoop to being _his_ girlfriend. He was going to have to fix that once they'd landed.

He did look better in a suit, if he did say so.

Well, been told so anyways.

…

They'd separated after exiting the plane so they could both change into clothes more suited for a cocktail party; the first event of their weekend. Jemma couldn't stop the way her eyes so easily took her client in with the tailored suit on. If she'd thought he was cute in the plaid and cardigan set he wore on the plane, she positively couldn't take her eyes off him now.

Jemma couldn't help the way her lips curled up every time she met his fascinating blue eyes. It was only when she saw him nervously hovering near the ladies' toilets that she even noticed she'd been doing it.

What was it about Leopold Fitz Coulson that was making her break so many of her rules, mental and actual?

They were finally exiting the airport and as they joined the cue for the waiting taxi line her coat opened and he saw the dress she was wearing.

"Oh, no," he softly exclaimed.

"What is it?" Jemma asked, giving him a curious look.

"Your dress," he started. She looked at her dress confused. "Sorry, but it looks like someone took an extra piece of your dress and made my tie."

She could hear he was trying to fight down his panic. Again she had to fight her own desire to smile too brightly. He worried too much.

"You think we look like we're trying too hard."

"Yes. I want us to look like we fit, but not like we're trying to look like we fit."

"I'll teach you a trick," she offered. She stepped into his personal space, but not so close that it would appear indecent to anyone walking past. She met his cerulean blue with clam, despite his visible nerves and her own butterfly filled stomach. "If you look people in the eye," she began softly, "they won't care what you're wearing."

She saw him gulp and nod along, but his eyes weren't convinced. So when he caved in the taxi and said they needed to stop somewhere for him to change she wasn't surprised. She tried not to roll her eyes when he did. Really, she did try.

They stopped at some out of the way, not too populated, coffee shop that had indoor toilets on the way. The taxi man looked annoyed at the request, but wasn't going to turn down the fare this kind of stop promised him. Jemma smiled sweetly and silence his protest before it left his mouth.

But she soon found her own patience tested when Fitz showed her five different shirt and tie combinations, one including a completely different suit. How many did that man pack for this weekend?

While he was getting changed, _again_ , she heard him calling out, "Last option; I promise."

She would have rubbed her eyes if she didn't have some of her favourite eye-shadow on.

"Just remember," she called back, "regardless of what your family thinks, you are a smart, attractive and successful man. You are not defined by the opinion of others."

"Don't patronise me," he retorted, his accent coming out a bit thicker than normal.

Jemma didn't want to admit it, but the sound of that made a thrill run through her. The sound of his voice boarding on a brogue, like it had when he first woke was a sound unlike anything Jemma had ever heard before. It also affected her unlike anything else ever had. Which was asking for trouble since he was her client for the weekend.

"If I'm going to feel like crap, I want to be hot while doing so," he finished while coming out to show her his latest outfit.

Jemma gave him the slow once over. The dark tailored pants accentuated his ass well, and the open collared pale blue shirt brought out the colour in his eyes while also hinting at his well-formed and symmetrical shoulders and upper arms. She knew her approval radiated out of her eyes as she met his unwaveringly.

"Mission accomplished."

Surprise flashed through his eyes. This man had too much self-doubt. Whoever this ex-fiancé was she certainly did a number on him. Fear, and uncertainly quickly followed his surprise.

"Don't get attached," he ordered, before going back into the toilet.

As lovely to look at as the outfit was, it really wasn't appropriate for a cocktail party.

Just after he left the waitress who had been serving her pipped up, "I liked the white shirt and blue tie the best myself."

"I'll be sure to let him know," she politely replied.

He soon came back out in another differently tailor shirt, this one again white and without a tie to accompany it, but with a vest shirt.

Jemma just hummed her approval.

"Is that 'hmm' not bad, or 'hmm I was an utter fool to ever let you go?'" he asked, half joking half painfully earnest.

"I'd tap that," the waitress offered from where she wiping down the nearby table. She cast a quick look to Jemma. "If that's okay with you."

Jemma just gave Fitz an amused look as an expression of mild horror at being so openly hit on in a coffee shop crossed his. Jemma muttered her recommendation to him and nodding, he quickly left to get his clothes and leave out the matching blazer and the sky blue tie to put on in the taxi.


	3. A Simple Business Transaction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They have arrive at the Welcome Cocktails. Fitz is nervous. Jemma is trying to not be frustrated as she learns more about Fitz.

The pair were late and nervous energy was practically radiating off Fitz. Jemma tried to place her hand on his arm but he practically jumped out his skins as his eyes scanned the foyer.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

Coming back to himself, he clumsily pointed to the coat sign-in room they should visit first to put her coat away. The woman in front of them turned once her coat was taken and Fitz saw it was his Aunt Vic and tried not to recoil from her presence.

"Oh, Fitz," she greeted. He smiled back awkwardly. Internally he cringed as he saw the calculating look enter her eyes before she even started. "Such a shame. This should be your wedding, after all the waiting and hoops you jumped through for her. I know your father had been hoping for some grandkids by now to spoil, but well, _that_ didn't happen."

Fitz could feel the small amount of confidence Jemma and the waitress had given him shrivel and die as his Aunt Vic kept talking.

"And then the incident with the pool. You've recovered from that, haven't you?"

Fitz smiled tightly and blindly grabbing Jemma's hand he pulled her forward and by his side.

"Have you met Jemma, Aunt Vic?"

Apparently unfazed, Jemma smiled warmly and charmingly offering her hand she lightly shook Aunt Vic's. A shot of pleasure went through Fitz when he saw surprise at the woman he had on his arm in Aunt Vic's eyes.

"Nice to meet you," Jemma greeted in a light and genuine tone.

"Same," Aunt Vic returned her tone more guarded. "So, how did you two meet?"

 _Crap!_  Fitz thought. What was their story going to be? They hadn't discussed that!

Giving Aunt Vic another tight smile, he grabbed Jemma's arm and lead her into the coat rack area without answering.

…

Jemma shed her coat as she watched Fitz nervous look around for any signs of more family or the actual staff in the coatroom. Placing her coat on a hanger and putting the matching tag in her purse.

"If anyone asks we met through work, no one cares about my work, and you're crazy about me." Fitz anxiously babbled. "Or is that too obvious?"

"I'll say I consulted for you company as a biochemist," she shrugged.

"My brother has friends that are doctors so they might quiz you on details."

Jemma shrugged. He didn't need to know she nearly had a doctorate in the field before she'd fallen into this field of work, so she was confident she could convince his brother's friends of their story.

Instead she said, "I know enough to cover the story, otherwise I wouldn't have suggested it. Anyone asks for more details I'll say there's an NDA on our work and I can't."

"Right," Fitz nodded distractedly, holding out an envelope to her. "Here's your money, all $6000."

"I trust you."

Jemma went to just place it in her purse, but Fitz's hand stopped her.

"No, please count it."

Opening the envelope she quickly counted it out and in the corner of her eye she saw him counting with her. She finished and put it away.

"This covers expenses, but if you want anything sexual we discuss and agree to it before hand," Jemma explained calmly.

"Oh, that won't be an issue," Fitz practically scoffed. "I find the idea of sex for money morally repugnant."

It took a beat before he fully realised what he'd said, and to whom.

"Sorry," he quickly offered his cheeks flushing.

"Fitz, if you look at this for what it is; a simple business transaction maybe you wouldn't feel the need to apologies all the time," she offered clinically.

"Sorry." His eyes widened again. "Sorry."

"Plus it gets kind of annoying," she added allowing her annoyance to seep into her words. He was lucky he was so cute.

"Sorry," Fitz offered before he visibly cringed.

Deciding not to comment again Jemma started to return to the party and she heard Fitz rush to follow.

Entering the main room Fitz reached for her. When their hands made contact he pulled his hand back, no doubt realising how sweaty they'd become in his nerves, she suspected.

"Sorry," he offered wiping his hands on his pants.

Jemma suppressed a cringe at his new apology.

"Sorry," he said, realising what he'd said.

She watched him visibly stop himself from apologising for the umpteenth time in a row- thankfully. That was the moment they were found by another family member.

"Fitz! You finally made it, son." Shaking his hand, the man she could only assume was Phil Coulson pulled his eldest son closer and asked softly, but not quietly by any means, "What happen, you pull over for a quickie?"

"Dad," Fitz commented his horror laced his words, "now is not the time to be yourself; please."

Phil looked surprised at Jemma standing so close to Fitz and met her eye.

"Hi, I'm Jemma," she greeting offering her hand out. "I'm the new girl," she couldn't help adding cheekily.

As he shook her hand Jemma saw respect enter his blue eyes. Not the same shade as Fitz's but certainly similar enough. Then he was pulling them both into the room more.

"Since you've left no time for jetlag; I need you to hydrate yourselves." He handed a drink to Fitz as they passed the bar. "This is a marathon not a sprint. We have welcome cocktails today. Youngsters in the park tomorrow, followed by stags and hens. Then picnic by the lake and the rehearsal dinner. And then the big day."

Fitz cast an almost apologetic glance back at Jemma for his father's frankness and attitude, but she only grinned back at him. It was amusing to see him being manhandled like this. She was surprised how quickly she got a read on Fitz and how he fit in with his family kept telling her more and more about him. She almost had to remind herself that she'd known him for less than a day, not half her life like it had sometimes felt when their eyes met.

When Fitz faced forward again Jemma watched as the first completely genuine smile crossed his face. The small Asian woman before him brought it out in him. It lightened his face and made the stress she'd seen clouding his expression since they'd met on the plane melt away.

A part of her wished he smiled like that more often. It suited him much more.

"Hi mum," he greeted the short Asian woman as he enveloped her in a hug.

Jemma could tell Melinda Coulson wasn't a woman who easily showed emotion and the glint in her eye along with the hint of an upturned mouth told her how much she cared for the eldest Coulson boy. There was such an expression of comfort and home on both their faces that Jemma almost felt envious.

"How are you, Fitz?" she asked.

He gave a small shrug rather than a proper answer, and Jemma felt she could offer a guess to the reason behind that.

"Need a drink after your father?" she asked, inclining her already empty glass.

"God yes," Fitz answered his tone almost desperate.

"Let me get that. And would you like me to get you a refresher?" Jemma offered from beside him, inclining her head to Melinda.

Melinda nodded giving her glass to Jemma and she felt both their eyes on her as she went to the bar. This wasn't anything she wasn't used to. She didn't do what she did for a living and then get easily put off by attention.

She placed the orders with the bar man and watched while he poured out their drinks. With them in hand she started to return when a loud call made her pause not far from Fitz's side.

"LEOPOLD!" a young man cried rushing through all the guests to barrel into the stationary man.

The force nearly knocked them into her. Upon closer inspection she could see the similar face structure on the two hugging men. This must be the groom; Fitz's brother. Quickly she handed a drink off to his mum before facing the pair.

"Hi," Jemma greeted brightly.

"Hey," Lincoln greeted back. He gave her quick and obvious once over. "Who is the squeeze?" he asked his brother in a voice that obviously wasn't as soft as he meant.

Not waiting for a reply to his question, he rushed over to another group when he saw someone else he probably hadn't seen in a long time; leaving his brother to bask in his awkward ambivalence. Fitz gave her an apologetic and thankful look when she handed him his drink and indicated that she'd been correct; that was his brother Lincoln.

…

Fitz had barely taken a sip of the drink Jemma handed him when there was the sound of a microphone being tested. As everyone turned to look towards the dessert table, Fitz felt dread fill him when he saw his father holding a mic.

"Sweet merciful mother above, who gave that man an amp?"

There was a silent reproach sent to him by his mum but he couldn't feel chastised when he was this sickly nervous. What the hell was going to come from his mouth now? A few drinks in and Phil Coulson was likely to detail every embarrassing story he knew. Most of those concerning Fitz!

"Is this on?" came over the speakers, before too much back feed flooded the speakers.

Anyone who hadn't realised speeches were about to be made did so now.

"Ah, hello," Phil greeted everyone. "On behalf of myself, Mel, and Calvin and Jaiying I would like to thank you all for being here today." There was a smattering of polite applause. "I don't think Mel and I honestly believed we would ever get to this point. I mean we nearly did a few years ago with our other son Fitz but we all remember how that ended," he rambled. "Nothing but a long trip to the hospital!"

Fitz knew they weren't all looking at him, but it felt like it. Why did he come? Why?

He could feel his blood rushing around his head. Vaguely he wonder just how red his face had gone.

Man, he was such a failure. Everyone here knew it. And those that didn't just needed to wait, his dad was about to detail it all out. _Again_.

Because he wasn't good enough to be worthy of her love. Of anyone's love. Anyone not family and forced to, anyways. His chest ached and the only thing that ever made it ease was Raina. And she wasn't even in his life any more. What did he bring to the plate of life? Nothing. And now everyone was going to be reminded how he'd let the family down.

There was a loud crash somewhere in the distance. It sounded like a waiter had dropped a tray of glasses. Whatever it was, it was enough to snap his dad out of his Fitz-rag.

"To the bride and groom," a voice in the crowd called.

A familiar voice.

 _Raina_. She was here! Of course she was, but…

Before he could try and find her face somewhere in the gathering his dad had refocused.

"Right. Daisy, I'm so happy you fell for the boy next door; you really have brought out the best in my boy. To Lincoln and Daisy!"

Everyone raised their glasses and Fitz could see the happy couple standing with their arms around each other. Daisy looked like there wasn't anything in the world that could hold her attention half as well as the man wrapped around her.

Loneliness and barely forgotten longing struck Fitz to the very core.

He felt like he was going to be sick. As soon as it was deemed appropriate he made his excuses and fled to bathrooms.


	4. Miss Tie-Me-Up-Tie-Me-Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitz and Jemma keep mingling at the party and both find interesting conversations.

After Fitz had splashed some water on his face and found some level of equilibrium again he exited the restrooms.

And there she was.

Raina.

Raina was waiting for him.

And man did she look good.

"Raina, hi," he greeted, hoping to all that was above that it wasn't as hopelessly desperate sounding as he really was.

"Fitz," she greeted, visibly nervous too. "Hi. Wow. Look at you."

Fitz grinned, pleased but also embarrassed as he scratched the back of his head.

"You've cleaned up pretty well yourself," he offered.

She smiled that knowing smile of hers. "Yeah, but _look_  at you- you've certainly grown up. Oh come here!"

She opened her arms for a hug and Fitz all too willingly stepped into her embrace. Initially he tried to keep most of their bodies away from each other. It was awkward, but this meeting was always going to be, he tried to reason with himself.

Then her floral smell hit him.

And just like that all the memories and feelings he'd spent so much time trying to push away, to pretend weren't there anymore; they all came flooding back.

Summers spent by the lake. Sneaking away for some private time. Visits to each other's dorm room while their roommates were out or at a lecture. The smell of her hair that lingered on her pillow when she'd had an early lecture or lab and left him in their bed. The sound of her laughter as he tickled her. The way his name sounded on her lips when she was still half asleep. The tone she used when they were in bed together. All the plans they'd made to see the world and for the future.

It all surround him again like a warm and comfortable blanket.

That was broken by the sound of a too loud and all too British voice calling out;

"AS I LIVE AND BREATH! MY FITZY-BOY!"

Pulling back from Raina Fitz was soon bowled over again by his too exuberant cousin Lance Hunter.

"OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD! You're here!" Pulling back Lance gave him a thorough look over before declaring, "Where the bloody hell have you been? I have court appointed therapists that call more often than you."

"You have more than one court appointed therapist?" Fitz asked, both amused and annoyed.

"Course I do! Can't have one person knowing all my secrets."

"Hi Hunter," Raina greeted tersely.

"Hello bitch-face," Hunter greeted lightly but coldly. "Listen, since you dumped my cousin brutally and without cause, you don't mind if I steal him away do you? Ta."

Without waiting for her answer Hunter dragged Fitz back towards the party and he couldn't even get a look in over Hunter's shoulder to Raina again. Hunter stood there assessing the room.

"I didn't need your help," Fitz said almost petulantly.

"I wasn't saving you form her; I was saving you from yourself." Fitz saw Hunter's eyes land on Jemma standing in a group of his father's friends charming them all. Hunter's jaw dropped and his eyes almost boggled out of his head. "Who is _that_ gorgeous creature?"

"Jemma, my date," Fitz answered distractedly. "Do you know if Raina brought anyone?"

"Mate, why are we wasting another breath on that pathetic excuse of a human being, when Miss Tie-Me-Up-Tie-Me-Down is over there? That is how women are supposed be. Like a siren from the deep ocean! What does she do?"

"She a consulting biochemist," Fitz answered as Jemma felt their eyes on her.

She gave a cheeky wink at them before she finished her conversation with the group she was standing with.

"I think I need to stand close to a table or at the bar," Hunter said in a daze his eyes not straying from Jemma.

Fitz looked at him with a mix of disgust and surprise. Surely Hunter wasn't on that much of a dry spell to get excited so easily.

Jemma approached them and Hunter cleared his throat stuck a hand out in greeting.

"Lance Hunter, but everyone calls me Hunter," he offered. "Cousin of the groom."

"Jemma Simmons," she returned taking his hand. "Date of the best man."

She leaned up and gave Fitz a casual kiss on the cheek in greeting and Hunter looked at Fitz like he'd won the bloody lottery. The trio turned towards the bar.

"Enjoying yourself?" Fitz asked as they reached it.

"It's not bad," Jemma answered evasively.

Getting the barman's attention she ordered them both a glass of whiskey while Hunter sorted his own drink. Exchanging a small smile Fitz went to bring the drink to his lips in a toast when Lincoln's voice reached him.

"Can I have that?"

Looking down the bar Fitz saw Lincoln standing there an expectant look on his face his hand out. He should just tell him to get his own. He was right there. But he wouldn't.

Placing the drink back down closer to his brother Fitz forced a smile on his face. Lincoln smiled in silent victory and assumed expectation as he downed the drink quickly. Fitz felt Jemma hand him hers. Feeling weak he accepted it and saw her wave down the barman again out of the corner of his eye.

"You know why I love this?" Lincoln asked, waving around the room.

"There's now a reason for the world to revolve around you and Daisy?" Fitz said more than a little sarcastically.

"Exactly!" Lincoln laughed, answering genuinely.

Fitz felt his chest tighten at just how true that was for his life. He was just his dad's practice run for his perfect popular pretty-boy Lincoln.

Before Fitz could delve too far into his resurfacing insecurities Daisy arrived bouncing up to her soon-to-be-husband. Tapping his shoulder she practically fell into his arms when they opened for her. She pulled his head down for kiss that just kept on lingering like only a couple in love could.

Fitz missed that kind of connection.

Jemma leaned into his side. He hoped they didn't notice the way he jumped at her touch. It actually felt wonderful how perfectly she fit in next to him. But darn it if his arm felt awkward. What did he normally do with his spare hand? Where was he supposed to put it? Her waist? Her shoulder?

It hovered around her body before he ultimately placed it on her head. _Head?!_  He smiled like that's what they normally did. But he was nervous so his hand kept moving like he was patting her.

Why was he patting her?!?

"Aren't I the luckiest person in the world?" Daisy asked, slightly dreamily. "Everything is perfect. Except for Izzy coming down with a case of Obelisk Syndrome the week of the wedding! Thank goodness Idaho didn't mind not being in the bridal party, couldn't have more groomsmen than bride's maids, could we?"

Thankfully her questions didn't require a response and Lincoln gave her a spin before their intended dip turned into him dropping her to the floor. The couple shared a laugh, while both Fitz and Jemma jumped to check they were okay.

Daisy and Lincoln reappeared standing, Daisy laughing slightly hysterically.

"That's what he gets for not taking dance lessons until two days before the wedding!"

"Who's ever heard of dance lessons for a wedding?" Lincoln scoffed.

"Everyone," Jemma commented.

Lincoln gave the two of them an incredulous look. "You're joking right?"

Fitz gave a half shrug. He'd gone to some as a surprise for Raina. Not that it did him any good.

"How about this," Jemma offered to appease the couple, "we'll go too."

"I don't even know you darling, and I love you already!" Daisy happily exclaimed.

Jemma smiled warmly. Picking up her drink again, she learned into Fitz.

"I'm going to finish doing my rounds of the room introducing myself." Fitz nodded and silently his eyes pleaded that he wouldn't have to go with her. "You stay here and reconnect with your brother and soon-to-be sister-in-law," she ordered kissing his cheek casually.

Fitz felt his smile become gratefully genuine at her. She was good at working a room, while he was much happier hiding in the corner with Hunter.

…

Jemma had spoken to the last people she had confirmed knowledge of being family here. Now she could grab a moment to herself without any guilt. But the balcony she'd stepped out to get that moment on, was already occupied.

No matter, she was good at her job for a reason.

The woman looking out to the garden beyond seemed lost to her own tortured thoughts. The floral dress she wore clung to her figure almost perfectly. It was the same woman Jemma had seen caused the waiter to break those glasses and interrupt Mr Coulson's speech. She wondered why she'd done that.

"Hi," she greeted warmly.

"Oh, hello."

The woman turned to return to the party but swayed and looked very reluctant to leave her hidden retreat.

"Wedding are a celebration of love and commitment" Jemma began brightly, leaning against the railing. When the other woman relaxed she finished slightly sarcastically, "In utopia. In the real world they're an excuse to drink excessively and say things we shouldn't."

The woman laughed and leaned next to her. Eyes showing signs of inebriation but a firm distance in them too.

"Philosopher?" she asked.

"Biochemist, actually." She laughed softly as she added, "But I did minor in psychology."

"Of course," she scoffed with laugh.

"What?"

"It's nothing"

"No, go on," Jemma insisted.

"Well, you only _minored_  in psychology. And analysing emotions form a Brit?" she asked, commenting on Jemma's accent. "That's breaking the archetype."

Jemma shrugged, "We're not un-emotional." And a part of Jemma felt like she was more honest and in touch with her emotions than the woman before her. "Some people just need more prodding for information than others. But that could said of any nation."

The woman gave another scoffing sigh as her eyes drift back inside and Jemma heard the family group she'd left at the bar laugh loudly at some joke or story. Pain and a deep sense of heart ache filled the woman's eyes as the sound reached them, even as the coolness in her eyes remained.

"Care to share?" Jemma offered gently, tilting her slightly.

The woman gave her a long scrutinising look. Eventually she bit her lip looking down at her empty glass.

"There's- there's this guy I care for. I guess you could- you could say I love him," she started shakily; broken and Jemma thinks that is the first honest emotion she's seen on the other woman's face. "But of course he's here with someone else, isn’t he?"

Jemma was just formulating a response when someone came onto the balcony with them. Turning she was surprised to see it was Fitz. Even more surprising was when he leaned in and gave her a lingering lip-locking kiss. Jemma heard the woman greet Fitz, repeatedly, but he only pulled back from her slightly and the look in his eyes froze her again.

Why did his eyes make her stomach swoop like that? That wasn't good.

"Oh, Raina, I didn't see you there," Fitz blatantly lied. "Jemma, I see you've met my ex."

Ah.

That made a few things click into place. And dread quickly replaced the butterflies that had just filled her stomach.

"I was just telling her about how we really got to talking," Jemma lied. Fitz's eyes showed he had no idea where she was wanting to go with this. "The cricket game your company sent us to."

Fitz smiled and nodded in pretend understanding.

"Cricket," the woman she now knew to be named Raina asked disbelievingly. "But you hate sports."

"I hate baseball," Fitz clarified without hesitation and a genuine hardness in his voice.

Jemma suspected that there was a story behind that.

"Right. Of course." Raina nodded and looked around uncomfortably before raising her glass. "I'm going to go get another drink."

Fitz watched her closely as she left them alone. Once she was out of ear sot Fitz rounded on Jemma.

"What did she say?"

"Not much," she admitted. "She's pretty miserable to be honest and…"

"And what?" Fitz pressed.

"I think she's still in love with you," Jemma explained softly.

The look that crossed Fitz's eyes was enough to melt Jemma's heart. Such conflicting hope and fear storming in the blue of his irises.

"Do I know you from somewhere?" an older balding gentleman with glasses from the party tried to interrupt them.

But Fitz just grabbed her arm snapped at the man, "No."

Leading the two of them further away from the door and the party he softly asked, "Do you- do you think she wants me back?"

Jemma honestly didn't know how to answer that. She hadn't spent enough time with either of them to determine if her thoughts on this matter should be shared. And some small part of her didn't like the idea of Fitz with that cold woman.


	5. Part of the Package

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jemma and Fitz settle in for the night. Some truths and some creative lies are shared.

Fitz was carrying his luggage while his mum and dad carried parts of Jemma's up the stairs to their house. The group didn't stop till they were on the second level and in a hall. Fitz turned to face his parents.

"Thank you for putting me up," Jemma said gratefully.

"Oh, no problem. We're happy to have you; to finally meet you," Phil gushed waving it off happily. He stopped and tilted his head thoughtfully, "Although, technically we didn't know you exited. But nonetheless, happy to help. I love surprises."

Fitz watched his dad bluster about, clearly still riding a happy buzz from the drinks at the party. He exchanged an amused grin with his mum who was hovering at the stairs watching the interaction. Unfortunately it linger too long for Fitz's comfort.

"So, where's Jemma sleeping?" Fitz asked. Turning to Jemma he explained, "My dad has this rule about men and women sharing a room without a ring involved-"

"Don't be silly," Phil scoffed.

"What?" Fitz snapped his to face his father again.

He could feel horror creeping up his spine. They never let him or Lincoln have a girlfriend stay over without the boy sleeping on the couch! Even when he'd been seeing Raina it wasn't until she was wearing his ring that his dad _begrudgingly_  let them share his old bed. Now his father was letting him share his room with a woman he'd just met?! And after Fitz had promised her she would have her own room too.

"I'm not as old fashioned as my son would have you believe," his dad laughed heading back towards the stairs.

Fitz was left gaping at their retreating forms in the hall with a very attractive woman he'd paid to spend the weekend with. And he was going to have to share a room, a _bed_ , with her.

Could this get any worse?

"It's this room here," he said softly pointing to the room just behind her.

Opening the door he fought a cringe. Could he have been any nerdier as kid?

Science and Star Trek posters on all the walls that weren't already covered with designs he'd been toying with back before he moved overseas.

"Excuse the… science," he mumbled throwing his bag on the bed. "You can err… you can put your things in here and here," he offered opening a cupboard and a draw on his bedside table.

Jemma hung up her dresses and as she closed the cupboard door she was right next to his A1 Next Gen poster.

"Trekkie," she commented with a smile. "Must admit I picked you and your dad as more Star Wars fans. What's their name; Fanboys?"

"Had to rebel against my dad somehow," Fitz shrugged. "Yeah he's a Fanboy, and being a Trekkie was a passive-aggressive, non-rebellious way for me to stand out."

Jemma laughed. "I can see that. Although I'd suspect the appeal of Trek had more to do with accuracy in theoretical science than just rebellion. While Star Wars is a great story, the tech is more fiction than science."

"Yeah," Fitz agreed, a bubble of relief bursting inside him. "Next Gen just spoke to me so much- what with their boy genius everyone was happy to judge, but quick to rely on and- and was-"

"Forced to grow up faster than others his age, but constantly expected to be both an adult and a child at the same time by everyone," Jemma finished his thought nodding.

"Yeah," Fitz nodded, slightly in a daze.

He watched her unpack some of her things into the draw, leaving out her toiletries while he mindless emptied his own bag. She'd finished his thought for him. _He_ hadn't even known how to finish his thought!

"Is this a preliminary design for a forensic drone?" she asked, pointing to one of his old deigns.

"It was, yeah. Still haven't found a battery powerful enough or a light enough material to get the thing air born. It was a nice idea though."

He'd been forced to scrap the idea when he was still in freshman year, but he kept the design here, hoping he could finish it. One day.

"The theory looks sound," she muttered leaning in closer to the blueprint. "The only real flaw I'm seeing is you're expecting too much from a single drone. If you split the data it was scanning for between another or even multiple drones programed to work in tandem you could get them light enough to be able to be quite mobile actually."

"Multiple drones?" Fitz repeated, stunned.

That was genius! Why the bloody hell hadn't he thought of that? Like five bloody years ago?!

"I guess you could say, these are the drones you're looking for?" she offered.

The teasing smile dancing in her eyes made him forget all the equations and science that had jumped into his mind at her suggestion. Could this woman be any more perfect?

Her eyes dropped to the bed between them and he saw surprise and annoyance cross her face.

Wha-why? Looking down he felt his face flush red. Crap! He'd pulled the article out of his bag along with all his other stuff!

"How did you know that was me?"

Fitz hastily grabbed the pages from under the pile of socks. "Ah- the reporter is a friend of a friend."

"Remain confidential will it Bobbi," he thought she mumbled, her hand reaching behind her to pull down the zip of her dress.

As her dress fell to the floor Fitz didn't _mean_  to notice the creamy smooth expanse of flesh she showed him. He didn't _want_  to notice the way the red lingerie she wore under the dress complemented her skin tone, or the hints of hundreds of little freckles his mind begged him to try and count that spread over the form exposed to him.

Nope!

He tilted his head to the roof as a sound of surprise escaped him, putting his hands on his hips.

"What?" Jemma asked, in a sultry, almost mocking, tone. "May as well take a look. It's all part of the package."

Fitz thought about laughing at the absurdity of the situation, but the sound of her bra unclasping was too much for him. Quickly spinning he turned his back to her as well, avoiding all temptation to … look.

"Sorry, I'm nervous. I never thought this would happen to me," he muttered.

"Happen _to_  you?" Jemma asked from behind him.

"Well, happen in the sense I sought your number, called you, gave you $6000 I don't have to spare, and flew you over here with me," he grudgingly explained.

Even though he couldn't see it Fitz heard, _felt_ , her moving around his room headed for the en suite.

He _wouldn't_  look. He wouldn’t _look. He wouldn't look. **He. Wouldn't. Look.**_

He looked.

Fitz had to stifle a groan as he saw her naked figure step into his bath-shower. That was an image he was going to be seeing for a while. He may have imagined it, but it seemed her hips had an extra sway to them as she stepped in behind the shower curtain.

"Oh, Fitz could you pass me my body wash?" she called.

"Body wash," he practically shouted, quickly facing the bed and grabbing it from her open toiletry bag.

Rushing into the bathroom he offered it to the nearside of the curtain, just as her hand appeared at the other side. Going to switch sides he saw her hand disappear and he tried **_not_**  to focus on just how little was between him and her naked body. They alternated sides with their hands two more times before he realised she was doing it on purpose and doubled back on a side and finally handed it over to her.

With a smile in her voice Fitz heard her singing in the shower. Facing his bedroom again he saw the papers from the article on his bed from where he'd thrown it. Picking it up he debated with himself; should he ask the questions he'd wanted to? Really, she knew he knew it was her that gave the interview. So, there no need for him to try and think of another way to start the conversation.

Leaning on the doorframe he cleared his throat and started nervous, "The part- the part where you were a sexual surrogate and then… then you branched out; is that really how it happened?"

"The truth?" Jemma's voice asked. Fitz gave a noise of confirmation before she kept talking. "My mother died when I was still a baby. My father's only proper income was at a strip club where he practically raised me. So my childhood was filled with inappropriate exposure to that side of life. I had a carousel of mother figures who knew no real sexual boundaries and a father who didn't know how to have or maintain a healthy relationship. As an adult I needed to be able to explore sexual intimacy in an environment that I felt was controlled and maintained boundaries that I'd never really had in my childhood."

"Oh my god," Fitz exclaimed.

How had she managed to walk away from that kind of a childhood and still be a well-adjusted human being? Here he was lamenting over his life and the shitty turns it had made to a woman who had overcome so much more than he was even able to fathom. And he'd mentally objectified her; more than once!

He was a horrible human being!

The edge of the curtain was parted and her head stuck out a grin on her face.

"Just joking."

Surprise, relief, embarrassment and irritation swept through Fitz. How had he believed such a story? How had she gotten that all out with a straight face?

Straightening out the pages he held in his hands he focused on the part he'd circled, reminding himself what he'd really been wanting to ask.

"In the article you said, and I quote; 'every woman has the love life she wants, and every man has the love life he thinks he deserves'." Fitz vaguely thought the sound of running water had stopped, but his returned indignation helped him forget what that could mean. "That’s two pretty big generalisat-OH!"

The water _had_  stopped. Jemma had stepped out. She cocked her head to the side, a smile dancing at the corner of her mouth as she dried herself before him, unfazed by his presence while she did this. Snapping back to himself, Fitz raised the pages till all he could see over them was Jemma's smirking curious face.

"You think I deserve to be single and miserable? Do you think I want be hopelessly waiting for a woman who led me on for years before, out of the blue, she pulled the rug of the future we'd planned from under me?"

"First of all," Jemma started, towelling her hair, "there's no such thing as 'out of the blue'. And second," she paused and met Fitz's eye, "yeah."

"What?!"

Fitz dropped the magazine pages, totally ignorant to the fact that Jemma wasn't covered at all, as the only towel she was using was still being run over her hair. He was too focused on their conversation and the expression in her eyes. She really meant it! She thought he deserved to be heartbroken!

"When you're ready to let all that go, and believe yourself _worthy_  of a better future, you'll find it. Until then," she shrugged as she walked back into the bedroom past him.

Fitz was in such a state of shock that he remained stunned where he was as he digested her words.

So it wasn't that she thought he deserved the life he had. She thought _he_  thought he deserved his life.

Was that it?

He was going to have to think on this some more.

…

Jemma lay down comfortably on Fitz's bed ready to fall asleep while he kept piling blankets and cushions next to her. She wasn't going to jump him in her sleep, honestly! And it's not like he was the type to try and take advantage either.

She wasn't sure which of them he didn't trust more.

Himself, she had a strong feeling.

"When you spoke with Raina earlier," Fitz started nervously, "how did she sound?"

"Like a harmless, perpetually cold drunk princess," she answered tiredly.

"Seriously."

Rolling to face him Jemma answered softly and honestly, "She sounded tortured."

Not wanting to get any further in trying to understand the other woman's thoughts and motives she rolled back over. Jemma was quickly realising she wasn't un-biased over the result of where this reunion was going.

She _knew_  she didn't know him well enough to make this kind of call for him but Fitz deserved better than Raina.

She heard him ask some follow up questions. ('Tortured how? Like jealous I'm here with someone else, or regretful? Jemma? Jemma, you asleep?') But she didn't respond and kept her eyes closed feigning sleep.

"This hasn't turned out how I thought it would," Fitz admitted to the darkness of his room.

That made the both of them, Jemma thought.

"She seems changed; like she's matured."

It took all her control for Jemma not to snort at _that_ comment. Slightly drunken contemplation was worlds away from actual maturity. But it was also a jarring reminder that this was Fitz's life, and she was only a stand-in for what he was missing in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, in case you didn't already know/guess I'm a sci-fi nerd. I don't see the point in arguing over what's better than what as I enjoy most, but I certainly wouldn't say all. And all have their points that make them better than others in at least one sense; thus why there are groups of people who enjoy it so.


	6. The Yoda of Escorts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Young ones in the park, then Fitz and Jemma get ready for a night at the Stag party and Hens night.

"MOVE YOUR PRISSIE ASS, CASSIE!" Raina yelled to the other bride's maid that was chasing after the ball Lincoln had hit down her way.

They were playing a game of mini-baseball in a park. One of Lincoln and Daisy's favourite games. So in their honour they were bride-side versus groom-side with wedding party members as teams, with their partners to help even out the numbers. Bases were individual cricket stumps because it was what they had, but Daisy never understood cricket no matter how many times Fitz had explained it to her. Raina and Lincoln understood, but had no interest to teach her.

Okay, so maybe Fitz was quick to say Raina had matured last night, he couldn't help thinking as he watched her continue to throw verbal abuse at her team mate. She even chided Daisy for complementing Lincoln's play. But Raina had always been _very_  competitive. It's probably just that. After all the bride's team needed three more outs without the groom's team getting two home to win. And she _had_  managed to bowl -throw? No pitch! -them out pretty quickly previously.

Hunter was the next batter up and banter was shared between him and Riana. Fitz didn't hear the exchange, but knowing how the two of them feel about each other he's kinda happy he didn't as they were no doubt insults. Both ways.

Hunter was happy to reach Daisy's, at first base, stick.

Fitz was up next. He'd always hated playing any form of ball sport, but that didn't mean he was bad at them. So, he swallowed his pride and threw his hits on purpose to make Raina happy.

Lincoln had tried to steal a base and got himself tapped out. Fitz pretended to be disappointed with the rest of their team as Raina did a victory dance from her spot.

Jemma was the next batter.

Fitz leaned in pretending to give her a kiss for luck as he whispered, "Throw the game."

Fitz could only hope that she'd do as he asked.

Raina blew on the ball for luck as she and Jemma exchanged calculated looks. Jemma's back straightened. Raina threw. Jemma hit it.

Hard.

Fitz had to choke back a cry of disapproval at the same time Lincoln gave a cry of victory with the rest of their team. They watch as the ball flew further than anyone had managed to hit so far today. He watched shocked as Hunter's excited cry came closer before he tapped the home stump.

Daisy's friend Mike, who'd been in that outter part of the field, had a big throw and it was going to be a close call for Jemma getting home.

Raina had the ball again and threw it as fast as she could.

But it wasn't fast enough to stop Jemma from tapping their victory and landing herself in Fitz's arms. Spinning as he helped her come to a stop.

While his brother and the rest of their team gave cries of victory at the close game behind him, Fitz couldn't stop the chiding tone in voice as he whispered, "What are you doing?"

"Helping," Jemma whispered back. Fitz gave her a questioning look before she pulled his head down closer. "Now, she can't take her eyes off you."

Ah. A thrill went down his spine as he realised he could feel her eyes on them. She must be jealous for him to feel them this keenly. Clearly Jemma's was a much better idea. He stole a glance over her head and Raina was throwing a glare their way.

Playing along he pulled her up into his arms more, taking her feet off the ground. Was she really this light? This can't be right. Jemma fit too perfectly in his arms as she locked her feet around his waist and tucked her head between his shoulder and head.

A very different thrill shot through him as he was bombarded by Jemma's fruity scent around him. Fitz felt like he could keep Jemma in his arms forever and it was just the way things were meant to be. He couldn't hear the celebrations or congratulations being thrown the team's way. He no longer felt Raina's eyes on them. All he felt was Jemma's body pressed into his; her head so close to his.

And Fitz was surprised at how happy he was.

…

Jemma just smiled as Fitz followed her with his eyes around his room. She realised he'd hardly taken his eyes off her since they'd returned from the park.

"So," Fitz began nervously one hand searching through his closet for the matching jacket to his suit, "have you- ah, have you ever escorted a wedding before?"

"No," she answered quickly and without pausing. Checking her make-up one last time she decided to sate some of his curiosity about her living. "But I have done a funeral once."

"A funeral?!" he sounded so horrified at the thought. "Someone is _dead_."

"Yes." Jemma stepped in close to Fitz, straightened his tie while he slipped on his jacket before locking her brown eyes to his blue, "Imagine facing that alone."

She gave him a moment before she turned and started to leave his room.

Regardless of Fitz's (or even Bobbi's) thoughts on it, Jemma did not regret taking on Will Daniels as her client. What they'd shared would always remain special to her. She could never regret Will. Never.

Just as they were passing through the kitchen on the way out to wait for the car that was picking them up, a voice called from behind them, "Catch."

Turning, Jemma caught the car keys Phil threw their way.

"Jemma's not drinking is she?"

"No," she admitted. "Figured there should at least one person there to make sure nothing happens that could land the bride in jail, or the hospital days away from the wedding."

"Well then, you can use Lola to make sure you and Daisy get home safe."

"Wait, you're letting her take Lola?!" Fitz asked, sounding outraged.

"Lola?" Jemma repeated.

"What? I like her," Phil shrugged. A thrill of joy shot through Jemma at his words; _that_ she didn't want to think on too closely. "I trust her not to wreck my baby girl."

"You've only let me drive her less than a dozen times in my whole life!" Fitz commented indignantly.

"While Lincoln and Daisy combined is even less than that," Melinda's voice added from another room.

Jemma eyed the keys suddenly warily. "This sounds like the cherry red vintage convertible I saw in the garage. I know less about cars than how I feel about driving a family heirloom."

"It's hardly an heirloom," Phil tried to dismiss with a wave and a boyish shrug of the shoulder. "More like a… an expensive to maintain dust collector."

But Jemma didn’t need to see either Fitz with his hands on his waist or Melinda crossing her arms as she joined them in the kitchen to know that she shouldn't buy into his act.

"I don't believe you," Jemma answered, not maliciously but friendly enough that none of the Coulson family could take offence.

"Phil, if she says she's not comfortable driving it, she's not comfortable taking your precious car."

"I just want the kids to have fun tonight!"

"They can have fun in the family car."

"But Lola is _more_  fun. And Jemma's the only one of the young ones I trust not to take her needlessly on a joy-ride or let anyone drunk have a go at driving her."

Jemma could see Fitz watching his parents argue and that he wanted to take the car. But the glance he threw her told her he was hesitating for her sake.

"If you're comfortable with me taking it, I guess we can take Lola. If Fitz drives it to the pub where the stags is at, I'm pretty sure I can navigate my way to the hens."

"Really?!"

Both Fitz and his dad asked simultaneously.

"Jemma, are you sure?" Melinda clarified, less excited than the men.

"Yes. Unless 'fun' was a euphemism for…"

" _NOT IN LOLA!_ " Phil yelled.

Fitz looked uneasy at the thought. Jemma heard him mutter, "That would be a nightmare to try and clean up after with Lola's interior."

"It is," Melinda agreed.

Jemma smiled knowingly at the matriarch while the two Coulson men reacted very differently; Phil looked both pleased and embarrassed by the comment while still being repelled at Jemma's implication; and Fitz looked shocked and repulsed, he actually appeared to turn slightly green at the thought.

"Okay, we're leaving; _now_ ," Fitz exclaimed, grabbing her hand and leading her off to the garage.

"Have fun-"

"But not that kind of fun!"

"-in Lola."

As the door closed behind them Jemma had to stifle a laugh.

…

"Can I ask you a question about your family?" Jemma started.

Fitz looked over at her, wondering what she was going to ask. And well, he could answer one question for how much she helped him just spit-ball an idea for a possible chemicals he could look into for a non-lethal weapon idea he'd been tinkering with.

"Sure, fire away."

"The rest of your family is very American, but you have a Scottish accent. How have you kept it?"

Fitz laughed. That wasn't what he was expecting.

"Me Ma," he answered. "Dad used to travel a lot for work. That's how he met my ma, who lived in Edinburgh. They never married, so, I lived there with her till I was eight. When my ma died in a car collision I was sent to live here. I knew dad was married and had met both mum and Lincoln, but never spent too much time with them till I came to live here. It was hard to adjust," he admitted, remembering the tough times. "Mum was key to me feeling at home, more than dad even. She never tried to replace my ma but made it clear this was my home as much as it was Lincoln's, and would remain that way for as long I wanted it to be."

Looking over he saw a soft expression on Jemma's face.

"What?"

"No, it's just obvious how much you love her."

"'Course I do; she's my mum," Fitz couldn't stop the scoff.

"Not every step child has such a close relationship with the new parent. Or even just a parent and child."

Fitz gave her a side glance for as long as he was willing to keep his eyes off the road.

"It's nothing, don't worry," she dismissed giving him a bright smile.

Despite her smile he could feel the tension that had come over her at the turn of the conversation. To try and lighten it again Fitz sought clarification on something that had been bugging him for the last half hour.

"Have you ever been attracted to your clients?"

"I understand you're curious, but I really can't go into details."

"Is that a yes, or no?" Jemma didn’t answer but gave him a tight smile. "But you've escorted at a funeral?!"

Fitz's comment had been surprising enough to make Jemma laugh, a genuine laugh.

"I know you find that shocking, but yes I have."

After she remained silent for a while he pressed, "Do I get to hear the story to that?"

"No," she answered with a beaming smile. "I never tell a client's story." Fitz sent her a pout and she just laughed again. "He wasn't a creep or a weirdo or anything like that."

"He hired an escort to go to a funeral!" Fitz cried indignantly.

"Says the man who hired me to attend a wedding with him." Fitz couldn't help but look over her in surprise at this quick retort. "He… he'd needed someone to support him on the day and he didn't have anyone. I _do_  vet and run police backgrounds on my clients before I go somewhere or away with them."

"That's… that’s very sensible," Fitz answered.

Huh, he didn't think about that. Of course that would be a very smart move for a woman. What woman would agree to go overseas with a man that she didn't do any research on or even know?

"I don't do this just for the physical aspect," Jemma said as he pulled them into the first parking spot he could find near the pub. "It's not about the sex; it's about understanding people." They both got out of the car. "About making a connection; understanding their needs." Fitz came around to the same side as Jemma. "It's about them not me."

Fitz grinned as he paused in reaching for his jacket from the back seat. He'd taken it off to drive, but now he draped it over the passenger's side's door and grinning he faced her.

Fitz commented, "You sure _you're_  not big on Star Wars? Because you sound like the Yoda of escorts."

"Ugh, Fitz," she said with a roll her eyes.

"Show me," he requested. When she didn't make a move he continued to goad her, "Come on! Show me."

"What is stopping me?" Jemma asked, walking slowly away in mock thought before she rounded on Fitz. "I think it’s the words 'morally repugnant'," she finished levelling a glare at him.

Fitz kept provoking her in his most confident and charming manner. With another eye roll she pushed him against the car acquiescing to his wishes. His feet went down to be on the road as he was forced against the passenger's side's door.

"Close your eyes," she commanded.

Nervously Fitz checked up and down the sidewalk.

"Close your eyes."

Was anyone coming? Was this a good idea to do in public? What was she going to do?

"Close. Your. Eyes," she repeated more firmly.

Still a bit hesitant Fitz did as she told him and shut his eyes. He could feel how close she was to him. With her on the curb and in low heels she was level with him, and was hovering just at the edge of his awareness.

His breath caught in his throat as he felt her breath caress his cheek then his chin. He felt her breath move to beside his ear.

"You're safe. I'm _not_  going to kiss you," she promised. "You can relax."

He was blanketed by the smell of her fruity shampoo and perfume. One of her hands travelled up his arm and combed through the base of his hair while the other held him against the car.

"She is going to be so sorry she lost you. So… stop worrying."

Fitz felt his breath even out. The confidence she had in the words she was saying to him filled him with the same confidence a glance from Raina did when they first started dating. His head relaxed more into her touch.

"Forget the past. Forget all the pain. And remember what a magnificent man you are."

No. This was more than that. It was like with Raina but more than she ever provided. Jemma didn’t make him _want_ to believe it, she made him _actually_ believe it.

"You remember that, and it doesn't matter what any of them think." Jemma finished, "You'll know what you really deserve."

Fitz's eyes fluttered open, and he met brown eyes so close he could see the belief in what she'd said to him radiating from within. They were also dilated. Could she feel this… this _thing_ between them too? Because it felt like it was growing.

"Oh wow. You're worth every penny," Fitz breathed.

The words had barely left his mouth when he knew that wasn't the right thing to say. What the hell had he just been thinking? He hadn't been and that was a big problem.

The reaction in Jemma was almost instant. She back away from him and he saw a hard aloofness enter her expression.

"You should get in there before the guys started wondering where you are," Jemma reminded him.

Fitz closed his eyes and called himself every bad word and name he could think of. When he opened them again he nodded.

"Okay, Yoda," he got out before he walked away slightly unsteady already.

"Fitz," her voice called, impatience laced with humour.

He didn't need her to say anything more. He spun on the spot pointing towards the pub.

He had been walking in the wrong direction.


	7. Hens & Stags

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drinks are shared, conversations are had, some are overheard, and more than one realisation is made. What else could you expect from a Hens or Stags party? Oh, that's right, _strippers!_

Fitz had just entered the pub when Jemma saw his jacket was still on the car. She picked it up and felt a weight in the pockets. Double checking it she realised it was his wallet and phone.

Well, there was no getting around it; she was going to have to take it in to him.

Walking into the pub Jemma followed the sound of men acting like boys away from their parents for the first time. Catcalls and wolf-whistles greeted her when she went into the private room.

Fitz looked at her confused from next to his brother and cousin. She held up his jacket and embarrassment coloured his face.

"Thought you might need this."

He walked up to her slowly and took it from her hand.

"Where was my head?" he asked sarcastically grinning at her.

Jemma couldn't fight the returning smirk to her own. Their eyes locked and the moment dragged out while more men circled around them.

"Bye," she breathed out as a blush she hasn't had to fight off for years tried to bloom on her cheeks.

Turning she found the cousin had moved in behind her. Hunter put an arm around her shoulder in a comforting, and thankfully, non-flirtatious way.

"Nah, don't go just yet," he wedeled. "Stay, have a drink or two with us. Put a bit of Scottish fire in your belly."

Jemma tried to refuse, but more of the guys clamoured to Hunter's cause, till Jemma saw Lincoln- looking more than a bit reluctant- agreeing to her having a round with them. Next thing she knew the two Coulson boys and Hunter were at the stools by the bar watching her get fawned over. One good thing she could say about these men is that none of them got handsy or actually tried anything.

They were all flirting outrageously, but none were trying anything untoward or attempting to actually make her uncomfortable. Which put them above a lot of other crowds she'd been abandoned in.

She felt Fitz appear behind her and turning she linked her arm with his.

"Must be nice getting paid to just be yourself," he whispered in her ear, a teasing and- dare she think it- protective tone.

"Who said I was being me?" she retorted with a smile she aimed just for him.

Before Fitz could answer, Lincoln had joined the group, with Hunter not far from his heels. Lincoln handed Jemma a glass with a shot of an amber liquid inside. She could see something was hidden in Lincoln's eyes.

Did he not really want her to stick around for one drink? Was it really directed to her? There! She got a better look when he met her eye. No, whatever was the matter with the groom it wasn't actually directed at her. Jemma suspected she was just the most obvious, and currently convenient, target.

Raising her glass in a toast she called, "Here's to the wives you've won; the losers who've lost you; and the lucky bitches yet to meet you."

A responding cheer from the group around them went up at her final words.

After taking her drink like a shot she felt Fitz's arm go around her waist to accompany her to the exit. He leaned in and gave her a very casual kiss, Jemma couldn't stop thinking about just how natural this felt with Fitz. It had never been <i>this</i> natural before with a client.

A loud rambunctious whistle came from behind them.

Turning Jemma could see Hunter's eyebrows wiggling suggestively at them egging them on for a bigger show. The wink and cocky grin would normally be enough for Jemma to heed a speedy exit, but she lingered.

Why was she willing to forego so many of her usual rules for Fitz?

She waited to see how Fitz was going to react to Hunter's cry. When he turned to face her again, her breath caught at the look in his eye. <i>This</i> was the man she knew had been lurking within him. Defiant and confident, willing to go after what he wanted. And right now he wanted <i>her</i>.

As she was pulled into his passionate kiss, Jemma realised how easily she could get swept up in Fitz. She could become consumed by him and his presence as it caused things in her that she hardly knew she was ready to feel.

Cracking her eyes open she could see how sincere Fitz was in their kiss by the expression around his eyes. As her eyes slid closed again she allowed herself to be swept up in the feelings Fitz stirred. Her arms tightened around him and her awareness was consumed by him; his presence; their arms holding each other close; the feel of his lips moving against hers that made the rest of the world fade away.

When Fitz pulled back, and she reluctantly let him move, she became aware of the loud noise the rest of the men were making at them. He looked at her both amazed and confident. Taking a quick deep breath Jemma was able to refocus and threw him a wink before exiting the pub.

Once outside Jemma took several deep breaths to try and calm her racing heart and focus her thoughts. She couldn’t remember the last time she been and felt like this. As annoyed as she was at her right now, Jemma knew she needed to talk this over with Bobbi.

Good friends since being made college dorm mates in their first year; Bobbi was the closest thing she had to family nowadays. Her opinion and advice were what Jemma needed.

Getting her phone out Jemma knew she needed to have this conversation before she was to attend the Hens party. Pacing beside Lola Jemma waited as her phone rang the dial tone.

_'Hi, you've reached Bobbi Morse. I can't come to the phone right now, but leave your name and number after the beep and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. …beep…'_

"Bobbi, hi. I know earlier I said I was mad with you, but things are getting a bit complicated here and I could just really use a good chat with my sestra to help me clear my head. Please call me as soon as you get this, whatever the time is."

Taking a last deep calming breath Jemma had to shrug off her disappointment at not speaking to Bobbi and focus on the drive ahead of her. She had fun night of helping contain drunk woman ahead while she was emotionally confused.

Just great.

…

Jemma raised her glass and called, "Here's to the wives you've won; the losers who've lost you; and the lucky bitches yet to meet you."

Cheers erupted at her words and Fitz fought down a smile as she downed the Scotch like it was water on a hot day. God, how much he wanted her. It wasn't just physical attraction, there wasn't a part of her he'd seen yet that didn't seem to interest him. She made him want to be better- in ways like no one else ever had.

He led her away from the group and towards the door. Just inside he gave her a kiss, trying to pretend that he's done this a million times before. Even with his back turned, Fitz knew the catcalling was Hunter.

At first he thought to ignore it, but he spared a glance over his shoulder and saw Hunter wink at them.

Fitz knew he was being goaded but damn it after all of Hunter's comments he wanted to show him. And it was a decent enough reason for him to kiss Jemma again. When he faced Jemma again it was with a determination and a confidence he hadn't felt course through him in years.

He pulled her back to him and immediately into a kiss. He meant for it to be showy and without any real substance. But as soon as his lips were on hers it was like he couldn't contain himself.

The kiss quickly deepened. It was like his lips couldn't content themselves with anything less than all of her. Soon Fitz felt Jemma melt into him and it became even better. Her body moulded against his and held him in close. He could hardly feel where he ended and she began.

Eventually his lungs screamed at him to get fresh oxygen and he pulled back. He couldn't help but grin in his re-found confidence. She made him feel confident.

She threw him a wink over her shoulder as she actually exited the room. It wasn't till she left that he noticed the wolf-whistles and catcalls being thrown his way. As he returned to Lincoln's and Hunter's side he was given pats on the back that he didn't really feel he deserved.

"I said it before and I'll say it again; you need to find a way to thank God for her," Hunter ruefully commented.

"Flowers or baked goods, wasn't it?" Fitz asked, smiling at his incorrigible cousin.

"Yeah!"

"How about I start with shouting you your next drink?" Fitz offered.

"I'll drink to that!" Hunter cheered before he downed the rest of his current drink.

Fitz laughed and just behind Hunter he saw an odd look cross Lincoln's face. Before Fitz could even think of getting to his brother and finding out what's wrong; Lincoln was smiling and chatting away with a group of his friends.

Shrugging it off as his mind playing tricks on him, and hasn't it been doing _that_ a lot lately, Fitz bought Hunter his new drink and got chatting to Lincoln's friend Gordon.

…

Jemma kept to the edge of the party and realised she'd been shaking her head in silent amusement often. There were a lot of women here and the only person close to her in sobriety was Elena; one of the women currently in a race to finish five cups of the surprise punch.

Sipping on her water she looked more closely at one of the pieces of art on the Elena's wall; it wasn't a Fury original, but a good replica regardless. She wasn't intentionally eavesdropping. Jemma was actually shocked at how clearly she could hear the conversation between the maid of honour and the bride while they were almost on the other side of the room.

"Do you remember the trip the guys took us on to Providence?" Raina asked, the sound of a wine bottle knocking into the glass accompanying the question.

"No."

"It started out a beautiful morning but by the afternoon it was _pouring_ rain."

"No."

"Lincoln backed the car over that policeman's bike!"

"No, sorry."

"You won $50 for making the NSA hack!"

Daisy gave a mumbled cry of victory and remembrance. "Then Eric provided me with that sweet wireless satellite connection."

Raina laughed with what Jemma suspected was relief at them being on the same page.

"Lincoln spent half the day in those tight shorts."

"But somehow it was Fitz that got stung by nettles," Daisy laughed enthusiastically.

Raina joined in laughing. She managed to gasp out, "He didn't say anything until Lincoln caught him scratching his arse like crazy."

"Then you had to sweetly rub a dock leaf to bring down the swelling."

"Yeah."

Their laughter started to die down as they both seemed lost in the memory. Jemma felt something clench in her chest. As much as she didn't like the idea of Fitz being with this woman, they did share a long history. And for most of it, it had most likely been happy.

"I didn't deserve him then," she heard Raina softly confess to her best friend.

"And you do now?" Daisy quickly asked back.

Part of Jemma's tension alleviated, glad she wasn't the only one who recognised that without already being at odds with Raina. Like Hunter. While Hunter clearly doesn't like the idea of Fitz getting Raina back, there is obviously some bad blood between the two too.

The moment was broken by the shrill ringing of her phone. Sending a quick apology to the people around her who had looked at her suddenly she stepped out into the cool abandoned outside courtyard.

"Bobbi?"

_'Jemma, hey. Sorry I took so long getting back to you. Had to finish off an interview and write down the key notes I needed. What's up?'_

"I'm…" Jemma checked for the door to make sure no one was listening in. "I'm finding myself in a bit of a jumble."

_'Okay,'_  she dragged the word out and Jemma could tell that she was lounging out on her couch. _'Tell me the details I need to know.'_

"I think I'm getting too close to my client," Jemma said in a rush. "I think I'm actually developing feeling for him. Bobbi, it's been barely two days!"

_'Which client is this? It's not the funeral guy doing a repeat is he? Cos I thought I made my thoughts on him pretty damn clear.'_

"No, not him," Jemma answered with a roll of her eyes. "This guy is the reason I'm annoyed with you-"

_'Yet you still call me at whatever time it is there.'_

"-because you broke confidentiality about me doing an interview for you. He's the friend of your friend."

_'OH! Mack's mate! What was his name again, Turbo?'_  Before Jemma could say anything Bobbi corrected herself. _'Nah that was his nickname. His real name is… Fitz!'_

"Yes, Fitz."

_'What's the matter with this Fitz?'_

"Nothing! He can be so funny and he's _incredibly_  smart and handsome. He has the most adorable bashful smile. His eyes are the bluest blue I've ever seen and they positively glow when he talks about his ideas for inventions! He has such an amazing relationship with his step-mum, which I hardly need tell you I'm envious of. His dad is the cutest dork for so many different things it is fascinating.  And his ex-fiancé is a huge undermining competitive bitch that he wants to win her back but she is all wrong for him and-"

_'Whoa, slow down there Jemma. I'm only catching half of what you're saying. But what I am gathering is… you like him? You're not sure if you are wanting to be there because of the journey you're helping him go on, or because you want to go on this kind of journey with him. Do I have that right?'_

This is why she always turns to Bobbi; she manages to make sense of Jemma's life when she can't.

"Yeah."

_'Okay, this can be a good thing.'_

"Bobbi, no one who does what I do gets a happily ever after with a client."

_'Well, you could give him his money back and then technically he wouldn't be your client. Jemma why did you even take this job? You've got enough to not need the money, and finish your doctorate **and** have enough to go a year without work before things would go bad. Why did you even take this job in the first place?'_

"You know why."

_'Oh my God.'_  Jemma heard Bobbi laugh down the line. _'Jemma are you getting on the rollercoaster?'_

"I… I think I'm considering it?"

_'Is that a question or a statement? I'll tell you what a genius recently told me, 'every woman has the love life she wants.' Are you wanting something more from your love life Miss Simmons?'_

"He makes me want more."

There was a long silence before Bobbi responded, _'Oh honey. I think you know what that means.'_

"But I hardly know him! We met for the first time like 48 hours ago!"

_'Sometimes that's all it takes.'_

"Bobbi, what if the ride's not worth it?"

_'Sweetie, you won't know unless you get on.'_

"Right," she sighed. Jemma had allowed herself her moment of doubt and confusion. Now it was time to get to the real world. "I need to get back to the party. Thank you Bobbi."

_'Anytime Jemma. I'll see you when you get back. And I can't wait to meet him!'_

Jemma hung up and quietly stepped back into the house. Not that anyone would have heard her over the buzz of conversation and softly playing 90s music.

Doing a quick head check Jemma was relieved to see that Daisy was still drunkenly chatting away with Raina where she'd last seen them. In fact the only woman she couldn't immediately see was the host Elena. Jemma didn't worry too much as she was most likely in the toilet or getting something.

"I don't like her," she heard Raina venomously state. "Look at her!"

Jemma had to fight the urge to react. She was willing to bet Raina didn't know she could hear them this clearly from across the room.

Daisy snorted at her friend, "Of course you don't. She's the body of a model, probably has a total of less than nine percent body fat on her, and is doing your ex."

Oh how Jemma wished thoughts had **not**  sprung to her mind at the inebriated bride's words. That was not an image she would be able to get out of her head easily.

"No, that's not it," Raina snapped, barely constrained anger audible. "Just look at her walking around all… British, like she owns the place."

Whatever retort was about come from Daisy's mouth was cut off by the music suddenly changing and getting louder. Looking over the hall connecting the lounge area they were in to the rest of the house Jemma saw two men in fake too tight police uniforms. Someone had got the bride two strippers. And from Daisy's slumped form Jemma guessed that she didn't really want them.

…

Fitz couldn't stop laughing as Hunter recounted his latest anecdote about a woman he met a couple of months back at a press conference and the wild night they had. Honestly, at this point, Fitz was like seventy-five percent sure he was just making this up now. A good story regardless.

Lincoln came barrelling into the two of them laughing.

"No one can understand a word coming out of either of youses mouths!"

Fitz looked at Lincoln confused for a moment before Hunter burst out laughing.

"Because ya yanks aren't ever not dis-shevable?"

"What?" Lincoln asked looked between them puzzled. "You speakin' English?"

"I _**am**_  English!"

Fitz recognised that wasn't Hunter's amused tone. Jumping between them he put his arm proactively around his brother, ready to pull him away if the next thing from his mouth was going to be something to push Hunter one thing too far.

"He's drunk," Fitz consoled in his brother's defence, "he doesn't know what he's saying."

Hunter waved off both Coulson boys and stumbled away to another group of men at the party.

"Come on baby brother," Fitz said directing Lincoln towards the bar. "Let's get you a water. Lincoln?"

His eyes suddenly focused on him and the younger man gave a watery smile.

"You're my half-brother but I whole love you."

Not getting a chance to even respond Fitz soon found his arms full of the drunk groom. Fitz patted him comfortingly on the back and kept steering him to the bar. There he handed Lincoln a glass of water while he ordered them a shot of tequila- that was Lincoln's happy shot. Lincoln downed the water and there was still a glassy look to his eyes. Concern filled Fitz. Normally a glass of water was enough to steady him out.

"I can't do this," he shakily confessed.

Fitz's brain was in no condition to decipher any riddles right now. Confused he pointed the newly poured drinks, "Tequila?"

"No," he venomously corrected. "The wedding." Fitz finally was able to figure out the look in his brother's eye; guilt. "I- I shouldn't be allowed to get married."

"What are you talking about?" Fitz asked mirroring the serious tone Lincoln had adopted.

Lincoln's eyes waivered as the brothers held the other's gaze. Just as Lincoln opened his mouth ready to spill whatever secret was eating him away the music suddenly changed.

Just like that the moment was gone.

"Whoo! This is my song!" Lincoln shouted.

Spinning away from his brother and the bar he jump/ danced his way to the dance floor. Fitz watched him go, singing/shouting the words along with the song. He wondered what had upset his normally unflappable brother as he had both their shots. Maybe Fitz just wasn't supposed to know what had his brother so unusually upset tonight.

…

Jemma sent up a silent thanks to whatever higher power was out there that Daisy had managed to refrain from being sick on the car ride back to her house. The fresh air seemed to really settle Daisy down once the drive started, and now she was in that bubbly over share kind of state.

Oh in any other circumstance she would be happy to make Daisy a fast friend. But she had to determine what exactly things were between her and Fitz before she counted his soon-to-be family her friends.

"I like you," Daisy slurred as Jemma helped her to her feet. "Fitz finally found a good one."

"Thank you," Jemma smiled as Daisy wrapped her arms around her in a tight hug.

Okay, she could add affectionate to the funny quirks of a drunk Daisy.

"Much better for him than Raina ever was. She's my oldest friend, but sometimes it's like does she even know me. Can you believe she tried to talk me into sleeping with that stripper?! I'm about to get married, for goodness sake!"

Jemma tried to get Daisy to lower her voice, she was sure that her parents didn't want to wake to their drunk daughter ranting about this.

"It's my experience that someone in love doesn't want to sleep with a prostitute," Jemma calmly explained.

Daisy looked at her confused, like she'd used some big words that she had to concentrate to understand.

"Daisy, you did the right thing."

After taking a step up to be level with her front door she turned to Jemma again. Daisy struggled to place both her hand on Jemma's shoulders and meet her eye.

"How to you know soo much about… sooo muuch?"

Jemma watched as she took two very long slow blinks. Grinning to herself she knew it wouldn't be long till the bride-to-be was sound asleep. Knowing this wasn't likely to be remembered Jemma decided to be honest.

"I am a hooker."

Daisy's eyes popped open then she burst out in a loud laugh. Jemma felt her full weight come down on her as she kept laughing. Thankfully the door behind her opened and Daisy's dad came out to get her.

"Sorry," Jemma apologised seeing he was in his pyjamas.

"No, no," he waved off her concern as he pulled Daisy toward him, steering her into the house. "It's good to know she's made it home and that Raina hasn't talked her into something she would regret tomorrow. Again. Come along Daisy, let's get you to bed. Thank you… Jemma isn't it?"

"Yes. You're welcome Mr Johnson. Good night."

"Night."

"Sleep well Jemma!" Daisy half yelled. "And be careful with Lola!"

Jemma just smiled and waved to the father and daughter as she went back to the car.

Jemma silently hoping Fitz won't be too hung-over tomorrow and they can have a chat about what this is between them.


	8. Additional Intimacies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitz comes home drunk and with an idea. Jemma's never seen him drunk, but she doesn't have anything against his intentions...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay for a public holiday here in Melbourne Australia- all so a bunch of people can watch a race they don't really watch any other time of the year... (I'm not complaining about having a day off) The free time has allowed for me post another chapter up so quickly.

Fitz felt beyond light-headed as they stumbled out of the pub and to the maxi taxi they'd called to get them all home. Hunter's repeated stories about the journalist he kept meeting wasn't helping Fitz to stop his thoughts from continually turning to Jemma. Every situation Hunter discussed Fitz could picture he and Jemma doing either the same or something very similar.

_Every situation._

Alcohol was not helping to shut down the turned on over-active part of his mind too. Not that he expected it to, but it didn't make things easier.

Why did she fit so perfectly into his life? Why couldn't he get the memory of her smell; her presence surrounding him out of his head? Why did the thought of never knowing the feeling of her under him, consuming him send an ach to his very core?

He had to know. His drunken brain gave a jerky but very excited start as it realised; he _could_.

"I need you to pull over to an ATM," he told the taxi driver excitedly.

"This trip is already covered," he answered.

"I know. I know. It's not for you. I need to get to an ATM!"

"Sure, whatever," the driver shrugged and started angling the cab towards a side road.

It wasn't long before Fitz was drawing out as much money as the ATM and his cards allowed him to. They'd never discussed prices, so he got out as much as his drunk mind thought might be appropriate.

That should be enough. Shouldn't it? He wasn't looking for them to do anything particularly perverse or anything. Was he?

No! No?

He wanted her, but not perversely. Just… in a way he's never wanted anyone or anything else in his life.  He needed to know just how perfect together they were. Because he was yet to see something in her that he didn't find perfect.

Yeah, that sounded better.

"Come on Fitzy!" Hunter yelled from the cab.

Hoping he'd grabbed enough he shoved his very full wallet back into the breast pocket of his jacket and jogged back to the others. The group continued to laugh and sing along loudly and very out of tune to the songs on the radio, but honestly, Fitz wouldn't have changed a single moment of it.

All too quickly Fitz found himself outside his parents' place. A smile broke out on his face as he stumbled with the keys.  Somewhere upstairs, probably in his bed, was Jemma. That though filled his stomach with warm butterflies and made his heart feel light.

…

Jemma tried to stay awake till Fitz got back, just to make sure he got to bed safe. She was surprised when she jolt herself awake when something hit the end of the bed.

Snapping her eyes open she saw Fitz standing there. Adorably dishevelled and still clearly a little drunk.

"Fitz? Everythin' okay?" she asked feeling the words stick in her throat. She must have fallen into a deeper sleep than she'd thought.

He didn't say anything with words but his held out hand and the look in his eyes filled her stomach with a feeling she hadn't truly felt in a very long time. Sitting up Jemma straightened her night gown and took his hand. Vaguely she wondered where he was leading her as they went down the stairs and out the front door. It wasn't until he practically tripped over the step to get into the boat on their lawn that she figured out he wanted more privacy than the room down the hall from his parents afforded them.

Did this mean what she hoped it did? Did Fitz want to explore this thing between them away from payments and monetary agreements? Could he possibly have feelings for her the way she did him?

She was confused, hopeful and oh so very scared. Scared to hope and give in to this feeling growing in her every time she's with Fitz.

He undid the cuffs of his shirt and she couldn't take her eyes off him. She was drowning in their blue depth and she didn't even care. Fitz reached out and tucked a loose hair behind her ear for her. His smell hit her with his touch. A deep earthy scent that was his cologne mixed with the scotch he'd obviously preferred to drink that night surrounded her like a heady fog, clouding her thoughts. She leaned into his touch and felt her veins fill with liquid fire burning through her.

Her eyes met his again and she could see his pupils were wide making his blue eyes dark; like the ocean on a moonlit night. And just like the sailors in the stories of old going against a siren of the sea she was helpless to fight the call.

He pulled her in and she moulded her body to his as their lips met in a soul searing kiss. Their bodies' aligned like pieces of a puzzle and Jemma felt her heart soar.

_This_  is what she wanted.

…

In the kitchen Fitz slowly drank a glass of tepid water trying to formulate how he would approach Jemma. He couldn't keep a smile from his face at the very thought of her. Quickly shaking off any doubt he had, he ascended the stairs.

Opening his bedroom door he could see Jemma dozing. Warmth spread inside of him. Taking off his jacket he threw it on the edge of the bed. The movement must have woken her because her eyes snapped open and she looked at him confused.

"Fitz?" she asked her voice thick with sleep. "Everythin' okay?"

His voice failed him so he just held out his hand hoping she would follow him. Even sleepy and confused she took his hand without question. He pulled her downstairs and out to their lawn and his dad's unused boat. She seems more awake but she remains silent and follows him.

Once they're in the small boat's cabin he faces her. Her eyes are warm, confused but there was still a part of her closed off. He undid the buttons at his cuffs as he stepped closer to her. Jemma held his eyes and he felt like he was drowning in their chocolate depths. She stunned him.

Fitz reached out a hand and gently pushed back a lock of hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered before he cupped her face. Her eyes slid shut and she leaned into the touch. When she opened them again he could clearly see one emotion overriding all others; _want_.

Jemma wanted him.

Her look gave him the confidence to swoop down and catch her lips in a searing kiss.

Which soon lead to another.

Then another.

Till Fitz could no longer keep track and simply became lost in Jemma.


	9. What Happened?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the next morning, and one misunderstanding leads to another which leads another which leads to a fight...

Fitz woke with a shiver and a start.

Where was he?

Once his eyes focused he realised he was in the boat's cabin.

How'd he get here? Why was he naked?

Falling back onto the pillows and blankets he tried to remember as much as he could from the night before. The ache in his head explained the absence of an immediate memory. Then, a blush cover his naked body as his mind supplied a memory.

No. That must have been a dream.

Surely.

Although that would explain why he was naked and in the boat.

But why would Jemma actual have sex with _him_? She was way too far out of his league. Pity attraction aside.

Gathering up his clothes he slid his pants on, threw his shirt on without buttoning it and held onto his shoes as he exited. Man, it was a long time since he'd done a walk of shame sneaking back into his parents' house.

Just as he was climbing down from the boat there was a knock on the front room's window. Fitz saw his dad grinning brightly at him.

"Ahoy there!" he shouted through the window.

Fitz jumped and pulled his shirt close as he waved with his shoes, "Morning Da."

Quickly stepping inside no longer bothering to try and sneak he rushed upstairs scanning for Jemma. He didn't see her all the way to his room- well, their room. She wasn't in there either.

Fitz dropped his shoes in his closet before he saw his jacket on the edge of the bed. Grabbing it he saw his wallet bulging in the inner breast pocket. Pulling it out he saw it was full of notes. Quickly fanning through it he calculated there was over one and a half grand.

Bloody hell.

He'd solicited Jemma to have sex with him!

He was a repulsive, horrible person. Oh she was probably hiding from him in disgust.

Fitz was still mentally reprimanding himself when the door opened behind him. Turning he saw Jemma enter with a full tray. Panicking he shoved his jacket, wallet and the money under his quilt and sat on top of it for good measure. She had clearly showered and dressed while he'd still been in asleep.

"Morning," Jemma beamed at him. "I wasn't sure what worked for you, so I grab a bit of everything; coffee, tea, a bloody Mary, dry crackers, and lightly buttered toast."

She place the tray on the bed beside him and leaned into him as she went to straighten. Fitz leaned away from her his mind racing to try and draw a conclusion, _any_ conclusion really.

"I need to ask you something," he said leaning back on his arms on the bed. "What happened last night?"

An emotion Fitz didn't recognise flashed through Jemma's eyes while he studied her eyes as his question register to her.

She took a half step back as she answered, "Nothing."

Nothing? Relief flooded through Fitz. Thank all that was holy he hadn't bought her last night. He picked up the coffee, saluted with it and headed for the bathroom to get ready for the day.

…

Jemma was always an early riser and this morning was no exception. The sound the trash truck turning into the street woke her this morning. Contentment and happiness bloomed in her chest as she felt Fitz's arms tighten around her waist. Last night actually happened. Turning she could see he was still sleeping deeply and contently.

An unconscious smile grew on her face as Jemma slowly pealed herself out of Fitz's arms. If the taste of Scotch on his lips last night was anything to go by he was likely to wake up with a sore head. After a quick shower she'd get some hangover remedies ready for him. Picking up her clothes and quickly dressing she exited the boat.

"Morning," called the trash-men cheerfully, and with a cheeky glint.

Unashamed of either her appearance or her actions last night she waved back a cheerful good morning. This wasn't a walk of shame.

Grinning to herself she moved quickly about her morning routine. After she was dressed she met Melinda in the kitchen.

"You're up early," Melinda commented around her hot drink.

Jemma shrugged. "I'm always an early riser, and the girls weren't out as late as the boys."

The older woman hummed. "Anything interesting happen last night?" she asked raising an eye brow as Jemma gathered a collection of food and drinks.

"Define interesting?"

"Oh, I know this one," Phil called excitedly from the doorway joining them in the kitchen. "It's 'oh god, oh god were all going to die', right?"

Jemma laughed. "A Brown Coat as well as a Fanboy. I never would have picked it. You Coulson men; you sure have your sci-fi bases covered. Let me guess, Lincoln was into the Battlestar Galactica remake?"

"That was amazing, wasn't it?" the man gushed. His wife rolled her eyes out his line of vision but Jemma saw and had to stifle a laugh. "I used to work with this editor guy who was a dead ringer for Edward James Olmos. He moved to the 'Times', but while we worked together and if he'd make a tough call about a story I used to say to him, 'Sometimes you have to roll the hard six'."

Jemma watched Melinda sigh a deep sigh before giving her husband a long look. Seeing her expression Phil shrugged his shoulders depreciatively.

"No one at work laughed either."

"It might be funnier if I knew him better," Jemma offered.

"It's not," Melinda quickly corrected her.

"I'm with it; I'm cool."

"Honey, it doesn't count if what you're referencing is more than 10 years old."

"Hey, it's from this century!"

Jemma could tell by the glint in the couple's eyes that this was going to be a long, and often had argument. Rather than get caught in the middle of it, she jumped in with a question.

"Do you know if Fitz is up yet?"

"Yeah," Phil answered. "He was getting out of the boat as I was walking past. He should be up in the room by now." He didn't say anymore, and his raised eyebrow didn't make Jemma flinch.

"Nothing happened in Lola," she reassured warmly.

"Are you a boatman?" Melinda asked, giving Jemma a long assessing look.

"I am now."

"I'm glad it's getting some use," Phil commented.

Both Jemma and Melinda looked at him surprised.

"The boat, I mean!" he clarified a flush climbing his neck.

Jemma shared an amused look with the man's wife and made her exit carrying the tray full of hang-over remedies she'd compiled.

Jemma pushed the door to Fitz's bedroom open and couldn't stop a smile from crossing her face. Fitz seemed to jump slightly at her presence and put something under his quilt as she entered.

"Morning. I wasn't sure what worked for you, so I grabbed a bit of everything; coffee, tea, a bloody Mary, dry crackers, and lightly buttered toast."

She explained placing the tray next to him on the bed. She leaned in for a morning kiss, but saw a look of confused alarm crossed Fitz's face so she pulled back without making contact.

Leaning back and away from her he asked, "I need to ask you something. What happened last night?" he finished in a whisper.

_Oh no, he didn't remember any of last night?_

Hurt and a flash of blinding regret filled her. That means he was too drunk last night! Everything they'd done in the boat he didn't remember; it was just a drunk misadventure for him.

It didn't mean the same to him as it did to her.

Who was she to hold that against him?

"Nothing," she dismissed, taking a step away from him to give him space.

Relief flooded Fitz's expression, and her vision was filled with the sight of his eyes lighting into a smile. He chose the mug of coffee and raising it to her he stood headed for the bathroom.

It wasn't until the door closed behind him that Jemma let out a breath she'd been holding. The sound of running water had just started when a sliver of doubt and suspicion filled her. What had he been hiding?

Walking to the bed she pulled back the quilt and found his jacket. Why would he need to hide that? Picking it up his wallet fell out and she saw the money bulging in it. Quickly flicking through it Jemma felt anger and betrayal surge through her.

After all his comments about it being 'moral repugnant', he'd been planning to pay her for last night? His question this morning was about him not having to pay for it? Did he _not_  feel the same as her?

Well, clearly not.

Indignant she fumed across the room and into the bathroom. Snapping the shower curtain open she ignored his embarrassed cry of surprise as he covered himself.

"Is this for last night?" she asked holding his wallet up.

"What? No!" he answered his voice very high pitched. "I mean… How could it? Nothing… nothing happened?"

"I thought I made it clear that I'd discuss any fee _before_ anything happened."

"I…I just didn't want you… I didn't mean to expect- well, obvious I _expected_  something or-or I wouldn't have stopped at that ATM… Or withdrawn… I just didn't want you to feel _obliged_  to…" Fitz rambled disjointedly and quickly.

Jemma was too upset to be able to enjoy his discomfort or fully decipher what he was trying to actually say.

"Besides, you're 300 short," she snapped turning. Throwing the money and wallet on the bed she stormed away.

"Wait!" Fitz called just as Jemma was about to reach his door.

Turning she saw him standing, dripping water onto his carpet with nothing but a towel around his waist. She did _not_  find it attractive or adorable. _Nope_.

"Are you saying that if we did… I'd have to pay you $1900?" Fitz asked, looking baffled.

"Not dollars, pounds," Jemma corrected. "The extra 300 was for…" she licked her lips and racked her eyes down his form. Snapping his eyes back she grinned, "You-know."

Mouth agape Fitz didn't utter a single sound as Jemma exited. She refused to slam the door and let her hurt and wounded pride make her give in to causing a scene before his parents.

…

Fitz was stunned. What the hell did this mean? So, something _did_ happen, but she wasn't going to take his money. But why would she do that? As he finished his shower the rest of the night slowly returned to him in bits and pieces. Once he was dressed he felt fairly confident there weren't any missing memories.

But he was still no closer to knowing what the hell her snapping at him meant!

Did her annoyance mean that she… she _wanted_  to just sleep with him? No money, no job, no obligation- completely of her own choice?

It wasn't like the sex hadn't been good.

Because it was more than _good_.

Amazing.

Fantastic.

He was still half convinced it was dream that's how great it had all been.

Downstairs he greeted his mum with a good morning kiss on the cheek and could see his dad was outside hooking the boat to the family car. He was taking it to the lake? No matter; he wasn't going to be able to look at the boat without wanting to blush for a while.

He couldn't meet Jemma's eye. An extra 300 for…

Leaning close to Jemma while he got the butter from the fridge as she was pouring herself a juice, he whispered, "What if I didn't want you to do that?"

Just as softly Jemma retorted, "The 300 is for you doing it to me. Trust me if I had, you would _definitely_  remember that."

"But nothing happened," Fitz quickly repeated.

"Yep," Jemma smiled sweetly. "That's why you get to keep your money."

Fitz was left again staring after her in shock as she returned to sit at the kitchen table.

"Fitz you need to hurry up if you two are going to accompany Lincoln and Daisy to their dance lesson," his mum prodded snapping him back to himself.

He rushed through his morning breakfast and it was a tense and silent ride to the dance studio. He understood she was upset with him, but how the hell was he supposed to know what last night meant to her if she wasn't talking to him? How did the silent treatment help him know what he'd done wrong? Or the cold shoulder for that matter? Did she think he could actually read her mind or something?

They walked in just after the lesson had started. Fitz looked confused at Lincoln, Daisy, Hunter and their instructor who were standing in a circle holding hands with their eyes closed. Quickly he and Jemma joined them.

"You're wedding dance is the most important dance in your dance life."

Fitz had to fight the urge to snicker. He heard Lincoln wasn't as successful as he was in repressing his snicker.

"Family and friends watching, judging, making bets on how long the marriage will last…"

 _Well, that's an ominous comment,_  Fitz thought. _But accurate in this day and age._

"You will only have each other and whatever skills I pass on to you today." The woman clapped her hands and a soft waltz started. "Pair up and let's get started."

Fitz turned to Jemma and they struggled over the correct placement of the other's hands, studiously avoiding meeting the other's eye. Once the instructor had talked through the basic step she wanted them to practice she left them to their own devices.

After Jemma had lead him through the steps a few times he muttered, "You know _I'm_  meant to be leading."

"Do you know where you're going or what you're doing?" she snapped back.

Fitz guided her to a turn, but kept his foot up and tripped her so she'd depend on him to stop from falling flat on her face. The glare she levelled at him might have frightened him if he didn't want to just get a _reaction_ from her.

And that did it. She stomped on his foot (in heels!) and he finally saw something in her brown depths.

The two kept trying to step on, or trip the other up. But they were close and when he was looking in her eyes he somehow felt like he could actually read all her moves before she made them. She, apparently, could also read him just as well.

They made a few circuits of the room, completely oblivious to the meticulous details the instructor was having to give Lincoln and Daisy, or even what Hunter was doing by himself.

Once he saw the first sign of a grin appear on her face he beamed back and began spinning them on the spot as fast as he could.

Maybe those dance lesson, a lifetime ago, did pay off. Her grin soon became a returning beaming smile and Fitz felt like he could fly. She was happy to be here with him. In _his_  arms.

Laughing Jemma locked her hands around his neck while they continued to spin. As he slowed down he secured his right arm around her waist and dropped her in a safe, secure, dip. Trusting him he felt her lean into it and he could drop her further.

They both laughed when he pulled her back to his embrace. He felt her sigh against his neck as she rested her head against his shoulder. And the ache that had been lingering in his chest since his shower this morning finally eased.

Fitz felt he maybe understood why she she'd been upset. She did feel this connection between them. She wasn't just saying and doing all this because he paid her to be here; she did it because she wanted to.

She'd wanted him last night. She _wanted_  to explore what was growing between them.

…

Gosh Jemma couldn't think of time when she'd felt herself fall in sync with someone so easily and quickly. Even when she'd _wanted_ to be opposite him.

He seemed to finally understand why she'd been upset and without having to say a word she could read his apology and sincerity in his eye.

Once in the car, away from his family, Jemma decided to finally share with him something she'd originally vowed she wouldn't.

"The other day you asked if I've ever escorted a wedding, I said no. I haven't, but not because I've never been asked. I've just never said yes."

"Why did you say yes to me, then?" he asked clearly looking confused.

"There was something in your voice that day," she explained.

"Desperation?" Fitz commented self depreciatively.

"No," Jemma corrected, rolling her eyes and grinning. "I think… I think it was hope."

Fitz shot her a look of disbelief. Jemma could only shrug. She didn't know how else to describe the way his voice seemed to call to her that day. And every day she's heard it since. Like if she didn't respond to him she was going to regret it for the rest of her life.

"Let's get inside and help my parents pack the car for the drive. It isn't far to the country area the wedding's at, but we do need to get moving so we can have lunch there."

Opening his door and breaking the spell that had come over them Jemma couldn't wipe the smile from her face.


	10. A Place with a Memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fun by the lake has laughs, jokes, and an unexpected secret is shared...

The views on the ride were beautiful. And Fitz was right that they were pulling up to the hotel they were staying at in in less than two hours.

Once they were alone in their room, their bellhop adequately tipped, Fitz grinned at Jemma.

"That a big bed," he commented before he threw himself on it.

Jemma smiled at his laugh while he bounced on the bed like a child joining their parents' bed first thing in the morning. He cocked an eyebrow and patted the space next to him in invitation. Grinning, but less energetically Jemma jumped up on the bed.

The two lay side by side staring at the canopy.

"I just realised," Fitz began, "I've been spilling my guts to you all weekend and I hardly know anything about you."

"I'm mildly allergic to dog and cat hairs. I'm about two semesters away from having a doctorate in Biochemistry at Cambridge. I _hate_ anchovies. I was always very close to my father, we used to spend most nights in summer watching the stars with a telescope we built together. He died just over six years ago and I haven't been home to see my mum since his funeral when she cut me off financially. I have no siblings or cousins, but the girl I was paired up with for dorm assignments in my first year at Cambridge is the closest thing I have to family. I've always dreamed of retiring away to this little cottage I saw when I was a child in Perthshire," Jemma's hand brushed against Fitz's lying between them, the butterflies in her stomach flying like in a storm, "and for the first time in my life I'm able to picture someone there with me."

She felt more than saw Fitz turn is head.

"Perthshire? That's in Scotland."

Jemma grinned turning to face him. When their eyes met the butterflies settled. His blue depths showing a storm of amazement, tentative hope and something deeper.

"I know where it is Fitz."

"Why? Why there, and what was so special about that cottage?"

"I don't know," Jemma confessed with a shrug. "There was just _something_  about that house; that day, that truly stayed with me."

They lay there grinning at each other till Jemma broke it, "What do you think we should do about that?"

Fitz's eyes glistened and he faced the roof again with a sigh.

"For now; let just lay here a bit longer."

Jemma threaded their fingers together. She couldn't think of the last time she felt so happy and content to just lay beside someone, holding their hand.

…

Fitz grinned as his mum dealt out the next round of cards for Fitz, Hunter, Jemma and herself. Jemma grinned and because Hunter didn't know her well enough he was having an awful time trying to pick her bluffs. He already knew, and freely admitted, that he just could _not_  pick Melinda's bluff, so his cousin was very quickly losing.

"Now I could call you on this," Hunter commented flicking through his cards and giving the other players a long look, "but then I would lose again because this hand is utter shite." He threw his cards onto the small table. "I fold."

Fitz looked over the table to Jemma and met her caramel eyes. Okay, he didn't know how to read her completely yet, but that was half the fun. And honestly his hand was going to be pretty hard to beat.

"I raise," Jemma said placing more candies they were using as chips on the table.

"I'll match," his mum quickly called placing the needed food down.

Fitz scanned his cards again. Should he call or raise?

"I call," he decided matching Jemma's bet.

As he watched Jemma place her cards down, a smile on her face, obviously fairly confident of a win. His mum folded not showing her cards.

"Lookie lookie here," Fitz crowed, "a full house!"

Cries of disbelief erupted with laughter from the group as Fitz won his third hand in a row. Jemma grabbed the deck a rueful smile still on her face as she listened to his mum as she told a story about the last time Fitz had this kind of luck.

Hunter leaned over to Fitz and whispered, "I bet there's _something_ wrong with her. Bet she's squeamish or timid in bed. She's timid isn't she?"

Fitz didn't answer Hunter. A gentleman never tells. But he suspected the smile and look he gave Hunter said more than even his cousin needed to hear.

"Of course she's not. Probably a wild sex goddess," Hunter grumbled. "You lucky sod."

"Have any of you seen my husband-to-be?" Daisy asked. "If I don't give him first taste of the fruit punch he'll kill me."

"Have you to ever had a real honest fight?" Fitz asked still grinning.

"No," Daisy admitted proudly. "But I hear makeup sex is the best kind. Not that I'm going to find out."

Hunter and Fitz shared a grin and one look back at Daisy and her eyes widened, showing she knew she was in trouble.

"Right," Fitz cried jumping to his feet. "Come here!"

"Give me a taste of your juices!" Hunter joined in. "A family that shares together, stays together!"

The two men began to chase her around the park yelling crude euphemises at Daisy while she tried to protect the drink.

…

While Fitz and Hunter chased after the bride to get to the drink, Melinda turned to her.

"You seem to have a way with men; why don't you see if you can go chase up the groom?"

Recognising a polite order when she hears it Jemma nodded and began wondering in the direction she'd last seen Lincoln walking. Not too far down the lake's edge in the wooded area Jemma found a small boathouse and seeing the main door was open she decided to check there first.

As she got closer she was able to see it was converted into more of a getaway house than actual boat storage. And she could hear raised voices. One she recognised as Lincoln's.

So she was in the right place.

"Why are you doing this now?!" Lincoln's voice yelled. "I love Daisy."

Jemma tried to mask her surprise as she stood in the doorway and saw who he was arguing with.

"I need to you to tell me…" Raina stopped mid-yell once she saw Jemma standing by the entrance. She finished her voice much lower and almost shakily, "is it cocktail or formal for the rehearsal dinner?"

Raina didn't wait for the answer as she quickly fled the boathouse.

An awkward silence fell over the three rooms of the lodgings at her exit. Jemma wasn't entirely sure what she'd just walked in on, so she slowly finished entering.

"Sorry to interrupt," she offered. "You're mum sent me."

"What for?" Lincoln asked running a hand over his face.

"To make sure you're okay," Jemma answered giving a pointed look back to where Raina had exited.

She didn't say any more and took in the view of the lake from here. If Lincoln wanted to share he could, but she wouldn't pressure him into anything.

"Do you think a place can have a memory?" Lincoln asked.

Jemma turned to face him and saw him staring without seeing into the bedroom. One arm held across his body the other holding onto the doorframe separating the rooms. Lincoln looked guilt ridden and like he could wish for nothing more than the ground to swallow him up. Slowly his storming blue eyes met hers and she could see he was plagued by whatever it was he'd done. Here or somewhere else.

"The four of us used to come here a lot during the summer. As many times as we could. Sometimes it was all of us. Sometimes only some of us." Lincoln sighed. "I hope it doesn't remember _everything_."

Jemma didn't ask out loud, but her eyes asked the question she wouldn't let pass her lips. Guilty blue eyes scanned the lake like it held the answer somewhere within its surface. Slowly he opened his mouth and explained it all to her.

…

Fitz was happily chatting to his dad about some changes his work was bring into effect and what that meant for his job when Raina came rushing over to them.

"Fitz, can I grab a word?"

Fitz and his dad gave her a look of surprise and distrust lingered in his dad's eye.

"It'll only be a couple minutes."

"Let's see, you waisted over five years of his life with your bullshit and charm; what's a couple minutes?"

Fitz was shocked at the venom in the words. He couldn't remember if he'd ever heard his father use that tone. Regardless, Raina clearly took that as a yes and took a few steps away casting Fitz an expectant look.

Snapping out of it Fitz addressed his dad, "Thanks for the solidarity dad. But next time, maybe less detail?"

His dad nodded tersely, still giving Raina a hard look before he returned to the main group.

Fitz allowed Raina to keep her back to the rest of the party as he faced her to hear what she suddenly _had_ to tell him.

"Um, I don't know how to say this," Raina softly exclaimed.

"Hey, it's just me," he shrugged. "I don't think there's too much you need to worry about."

Raina smiled tightly at his words. She took a deep breath before she started, "No matter… Regardless of how certain one may believe oneself to be about oneself, about what one will or will not do, regardless of what one should or should not do, um…one sometimes discovers that one is… not as one would hope one would have been."

Fitz did try to follow what she was saying. He really did. But Raina knew he had no mind for the all the double speak that goes into legal contracts and such.

"What exactly are you trying to tell me?" Fitz just asked confused.

"Well, I'm-I'm sorry. I feel I need to tell you something, kind of important and… and-"

Fitz saw Jemma appear at the edge of the woods looking startled and possibly dazed. Then all hopes he had of deciphering what Raina was trying to tell him went out the window. What could possibly have upset her? This was a very different upset to this morning. She looked rattled. His chest clenched at the sight.

"And you're not even listening to me!" Raina cried indignantly.

"Sorry," Fitz rushed out distracted. "I'll be back in a moment."

Jogging over he reach Jemma who struggled to meet his eye. Getting her to become still and make eye contact took a few moments.

"Is everything okay?" he asked.

Mentally he wanted to slap himself. Clearly _something_  was wrong and not okay for her to be like this.

Jemma stared into his eyes for a long silent moment and he saw some of the shock and pain ease from her eyes.

"Yeah," she nodded slowly. Reaching out she gripped his right hand in her own tightly and he squeezed it back supportively. A smile ghosted over her lips as she repeated, "Yeah." She kissed the back of his hand and he looped his arm around her neck to hold her close without letting go. She leaned into him and she beamed into his gaze whispering, "Yeah."

Having it confirmed three times Fitz felt his chest ease.

Whatever that was it didn't affect _them_.

Pecking her on the lips Fitz guided them back to the larger group at large.

All thoughts of Raina, and whatever she'd been about to tell him gone.


	11. Please Don't Say Anything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A secret is revealed! But not everyone who gets the blame is at fault...
> 
> [Note- there is a couple of swear words in this, as I felt they gave the moments the extra emphasis needed]

Jemma sat down at a small table with Melinda in the hotel's lounge area before they went on to the dinner. Fitz was with the rest of his family as the priest went through what they're to do tomorrow.

"Anchovy Jemma?" the hostess offered taking the other seat by the table.

Smiling politely Jemma took one of the offered skewered fish, but didn't bring it her lips.

"You know I still remember the first day I met Fitz," she started. "Phil and I had been dating for a while. I knew he had a boy under three from a relationship with a woman in Scotland and that every other holiday he went there or brought the boy here. But it was like I reached a point where he trusted me enough to meet his son.

"They'd both just arrived at his house from the airport when Fitz came barrelling down the hall, not as tired as his father after the flight and went straight into me. I hit the deck, and my heart… it kept falling at the look of both joy and worry on his face. In my head I said, 'This is it. This is the day I've become a parent. I need to see this kid stays happy'."

Jemma smiled as the image of a child Fitz jumped into her head. While Melinda appeared lost in the memory, Jemma put the un-eaten toothpick of anchovy slightly under the ashtray on the table.

"Then a few years later his mum was killed in the accident and he came to live with us full time, we only grew closer. It was the second, no third anniversary of his mother's death, and in some ways he's more like than me than Phil. What can I say, he clearly had a type. Where Phil or Lincoln are best to talk through what's bothering them, Fitz and I, we… work better when we're a bit distracted by something else. Having something else to focus on we can work through things at _our_ pace. I started giving him things that had broken around the house to fix, or just figure out how they worked. Most he was able to fix and some he even improved. About a month after that he came into my training and tai-chi room and asked me if I would be okay with him calling me mum. I was never going to replace his ma, but he was sure she would be happy for me to fill in the parenting gaps Phil would never manage on his own."

Melinda smiled, slightly watery but very truly.

"It's such an odd feeling. As they grow, you keep thinking you're going to worry about them less, or maybe you'll trust the world more. But you don't." Melinda offered the tray out to her again. "Anchovy?"

Jemma grabbed another, and leaned forward twirling it slightly nervously in her hand.

"This may not make a lot of sense, but I would like your blessing to… date your son."

"I thought you were already," the older woman said raising an eyebrow, and casting a quickly glance to the anchovy in her hand.

Jemma brought it to her lips, slid the whole thing into her mouth with Melinda watching and smiled as she ate it.

…

Fitz felt another laugh bubble over him as Hunter told the story about when their friend Mack met the family for the first time. Phil had ended up in hospital with his left wrist in a cast for _months_ after.

"I blame Alicia-pee-pants for my boys not getting along," his dad interrupted, getting most of the table's attention.

Fitz and Lincoln made noises of disagreement as they leaned into their partner's embrace.

"Yes! Tell the story! Sorry, Fitz, but tell the story Phil!" Hunter cried gleefully.

"I have to initiate Jemma into our family," his dad laughingly explained, ignoring Fitz's repeated pleas for him not to. Leaning in towards Jemma he began, "I blame Alicia for the reason my two boys just don't get along."

"Dad," Lincoln tried to discourage their dad from sharing.

"No, don't lie. Most of the time you can hardly stand each other."

A tense quiet came over the group as the two boys locked eyes. They _could_  get along, but it was never for extended periods of time really.

"Admit it," Hunter chimed in, "they only thing you have in common is that you're both secretly attracted to me!"

Everyone joined in laughing as the boys rolled their eyes together.

"It wasn't long after we moved here that my boys got into a fight over Alicia-pee-pants and they have never made up since."

"Apparently we were inseparable," Lincoln started around Daisy's head as she leaned into him familiar with the story.

"If Lincoln ate a banana, Fitz threw it up," Phil commented with a laugh.

"If Fitz threw it up, Lincoln ate it," Hunter added to a unified cry of disgust from the table.

"So," Fitz jumped in, squeezing Jemma's arm and getting the story back on track, "we were eating and throwing up in peace until Alicia. She was in Lincoln's grade and asked me to walk her home after school. She was my first girlfriend."

"Then a few days later, Alicia started ignoring Fitz because she wanted _my_  attention," Lincoln said grinning charmingly. "Anyways the point of the story is that Alicia ended up with a chair in her face."

Everyone laughed at the memory, and Fitz could see Jemma's eye lit with her sharing the humour.

"It was plastic," his dad clarified. "And child sized." Fitz saw his mum's eyes glint in amusement at the memory too. "But I do recall there were stitches involved."

"Oh come on," Hunter cried out through his tears of laughter. "Be exact Phil. There was fifteen stitches."

Everyone laughed again, and distantly Fitz thought the story retold wasn't actually as funny as his family probably made it seem in the lead up. Oh, didn't they sound horrid laughing a girl of ten requiring _fifteen_  stitches to the face.

"Is that when she peed in her pants?" Jemma asked, chuckling and looking between the people telling the story.

Fitz saw his wasn't the only face to scrunch in confusion at her question.

"Well, she cried," Fitz started. "I remember blood and tears, but no. There wasn't any peeing."

"So, where did the nickname come from?"

Huh, Fitz couldn't remember. He looked over the table and it didn't look like Hunter, Lincoln or even Daisy remembered that detail. He sent a silent question to his parents and they looked just as blank.

"You know," his dad finally commented, "I have no idea!"

Everyone quickly erupted in laughter again. Fitz grabbed the bottle of wine to top up his and Jemma's drink but it was empty. Looking at the bottle near them he could see the others were empty too.

Standing he offered, "I'll go get some more wine."

He felt Jemma give his leg a squeeze just before he stood to indicate she'd heard him. He kissed the crown of her head then headed to the kitchen to get to the cellar beyond it.

…

Jemma watched Fitz move to the kitchen area with Raina hot on his heels. A cold weight dropped in her stomach. She didn't want Raina breaking him any more than she already had.

Gathering all the nearby empty bottles of wine she followed to the kitchen to try and make sure everything was okay. Dumping the bottles on the table with the other empties Jemma crept to the door leading to the cellar.

Looking down she could see a tipsy Raina trying to get Fitz to give her his full attention.

"I had no idea this would… would be so difficult. Fitz, I just feel I owe you an explanation."

"Listen Raina, I have a confession; I brought Jemma here to try and make you jealous. But…" Fitz cut her off leaning against the rack. "I'm just sick of all the history between us. I'm sick of it. I think we should just let it all go and move on from here."

Relief flooded Jemma as his words reached her. He really didn't care about the history he had with his ex-fiancé any more. She couldn't stop a grin from crossing her face, he _genuinely_  was looking to move on. And with her.

Backing away from the door she kept grinning to herself as she made her way to the bathroom while they were down there.

…

Fitz felt more genuinely relaxed in Raina's presence than he could remember ever being. He wasn't trying to impress her, appease her or do anything other than what just he wanted to do. How did he never realise how tense or confided he was by trying to only be what she wanted?

"Listen Raina, I have a confession; I brought Jemma here to try and make you jealous. But… I'm just sick of all the history between us. I'm sick of it. I think we should just let it all go and move on from here." Fitz leaned in and added, "Let's get back out there before Hunter eats all of the desserts."

Fitz found two bottle he knew everyone would be happy with and made for the stairs. But Raina's voice and the words she threw at him, shook his very foundations.

"I slept with your brother!"

Fitz felt the world tilt around him.

No. He must have misheard that. He… She… They…

"What?" he asked, facing Raina again.

"I slept with Lincoln. Two and a half years ago, that's why I broke it off with you. And then after you left…" Fitz could only hear Raina's words and the rushing of blood in his ears. "We were at it like rabbits. Until the incident with the pool at the Ward's, then we realised how crazy we were and," Raina shrugged, "you know, how morally wrong it all was. Then that was it."

Fitz had to focus on his breathing. This had to be just a weird nightmare. He was going to wake up in his bed, next to Jemma any moment now. He'd tell it to her and she will make him laugh at the absurdity of this situation.

"But," Raina's hesitant voice just kept talking, kept twisting that knife she'd plunged into his heart, "when Daisy proposed to him on leap day I… I realised… I'm in love with him."

Betrayal continued to rip through him even after she'd stopped talking. Was there anyone in his life that didn't choose Lincoln over him? What made Lincoln so fucking irresistible?

"Fitz, please. Say something."

He couldn't. If he opened his mouth he didn't know if he was going to scream, or throw up. In a daze he left the cellar and returned to the party area. Hunter jumped to his feet when he saw him. After one look on his face and behind him, no doubt Raina had followed, Hunter place a hand on his shoulder.

"Oh my god, she finally told you."

Fitz let out a strangled breath.

"You _knew_?" he practically spat at his cousin.

"Mate… Fitz… I'm sorry. I…"

Hunter threw a glance at the table and Fitz couldn't contain the glare he threw at his _brother_. Why did he have to take everything good from Fitz's life?!

His brother's pleading eyes were before him as he tried to escape away to the open grass and the woods beyond.

"Fitz please don't say anything to Daisy. Please, you can't…"

He kept walking barely even hearing the begging of his _half_ -brother. Only one voice made him stop at the bottom step.

Jemma.

Turning he let her envelop him in a hug. For the first time since Raina had dropped that bombshell he felt like he could breathe. He felt like there was still happiness available to him. She was his steady port in this raging storm that his life had become. Her perfume was the soothing balm to the burn his soul was still blistering from.

"I can't believe you told him," Fitz heard Lincoln snap.

He stole a glance from the crook of Jemma's neck expecting to see Lincoln angry at Raina.

But he wasn't.

He was still facing him.

Them.

Who was he directing it at then? It wasn't him, so that could only mean…

He pulled back from Jemma's embrace _hoping_ for her to be able to reassure him that the comment _wasn't_ to her. But her eyes showed that she couldn't.

Stepping away from her quickly Fitz felt his finger go numb. The lump in his throat that Jemma's embrace had almost dissipated was back and larger. He dropped the wine he hadn't even realised he was still holding. His eyes burned and blurred as he looked on his betrayers; Raina, Hunter, Lincoln, and… and Jemma.

Shaking his head he turned and ran before the first tear could make its way down his face. Overhead he felt the heavens begin to open.

…

As soon as Jemma reached the French doors leading to where they were eating she knew something was wrong. Raina, Hunter and Lincoln were focused on Fitz who looked to be trying to make an exit into the gardens. The tension in his shoulder made her want to curse and slap the other woman as hard as she could.

Raina had told Fitz the truth after she left them in the cellar.

Calling out to Fitz she ran to him. He turned and accepted her embrace. She wrapped her arms around him and did her best to infuse the confidence she had in them getting through this together into the way she held him; into her gentle but firm rubbing of his back. Jemma breathed a sigh of relief when she felt him relax in her arms.

"I can't believe you told him," she heard Lincoln snap.

Jemma assumed this was directed at the bitch who'd broken Fitz again. But when Fitz's shoulders tensed and he began to pull out of her arms she realised Lincoln's mistake. She couldn't lie to Fitz and her eyes told him the answer he didn't want to hear; yes, she knew.

Although, she'd only found out earlier today. Jemma didn't think it was her place to tell him. _Lincoln_  should have told his brother the truth. It needed to come from _him_  not _Jemma_.

But the betrayal was complete in Fitz's eye. She could see it. Not telling him earlier today meant she was being cast in the same boat as the people who'd been lying to him for _years_.

Jemma felt her heart clench as Fitz's eyes misted over and he turned and ran.

"What's going on here?" Jemma heard Daisy ask, all the way at the top of the steps.

"Nothing," Raina commented lightly.

"It doesn't look like nothing."

"Now is _not_  the time to catch on Daisy."

"Okay," Daisy replied just as lightly.

Oh how easily they lied to those they cared about made Jemma feel sick. She ran off as fast as her heeled shoes on grass would let her after Fitz, even as the rain that had been threatening started.

Near the edge of the woods she saw he'd slowed to more of a stroll pace.

"Fitz wait!" she called, giving him notice of her approach.

"Go away!" he choked out. "How could you not tell me?"

Jemma finally reached the path he was using and catching her breath she called; "Fitz, what did you expect me to say? You need to stop running."

"I should just give in to the cosmos's desire for me to be miserable," he said rounding on her.

"Fitz, the cosmos doesn't _want_  anything," she dismissed, hoping he would hear how absurd he was being.

"Oh I beg to differ! They had _years_  around each other and Raina only realised she felt something for _him_ when she was about to marry me. And the next time I allow myself to feel something, it's for a woman who lies to me. That's what you do. You're a liar. Hell, I was starting to feel left out."

"Oh that's rich. You're judging _me_?" Jemma snapped back. "The woman you paid to pretend to be your girlfriend?"

"You're right. I was so desperate to make everyone believe I'm happy with my life that I paid six thousand dollars for a lie. And in the end _I_  was the _only_  one who fell for it! I wish it was worth it."

"Urgh, Fitz."

Jemma threw her arms out exasperated. She didn't want to focus on just how much that comment hurt. He was the _only_ one that wanted this between them to mean something?

No, she was right this morning. He didn't understand her at all.

"You know," she called, remaining still and refusing to keep following him down this path, "I think you were beginning to run out of steam on the whole Raina thing. Maybe you can hold onto this long enough to ruin your chance at happiness in your next relationship!"

She didn't want to hear what else he had to say. She turned and started the slow trek back to the hotel. Why did she think this would be any different than any other real relationship she'd tried to have? Her work would _always_ get used against her. Jemma couldn't believe she'd let Bobbi talk her into giving this a shot!

What was she supposed to do if the rollercoaster derailed itself on the first dip and left you alone in the wreckage?


	12. No Pretending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jemma tries to figure out what she should do next as she leaves and Fitz allows himself one night to not be okay before the wedding.

Jemma felt everyone avoid her eye when she arrived back. Lincoln and Hunter kept throwing her guilty expressions but she couldn't even feel the energy to be indignant over it. Raina flat out refused to even look in her direction.

Whatever. Those are _their_  issues. She was out. Fitz didn't want her there, so she was gone.

As she was making her final exit when someone actually approached her.

Daisy.

"Jemma, wait!" the bride-to-be called on the buildings steps.

Jemma paused with all her bags and faced the woman she'd been looking forward to calling a friend.

"I'm sure you and Fitz will work this out," Daisy commented, her bright enthusiasm shining through. "It’s surely just a misunderstanding."

"I… I don't think we will," Jemma sadly confessed.

"You couldn't be more perfect for him if… if he picked you out of a catalogue!"

Jemma shook her head. Planting her feet wasn't worth it if he wasn't willing to fight for her or even listen to her.

"Where are you going to go?"

"I'm going to find another hotel for the night," she softly explained.

"Don't be silly."

Daisy threw something towards her. Jemma caught it and discovered they were keys.

"Take a car." Jemma smiled humourlessly and headed for the cars. "Wait!" Another set of keys were thrown her way. "The boathouse isn't being used, stay there tonight."

The boathouse.

Jemma's jaw clench. Wasn't that fitting that she end her stay here in the very place that's been the cause of so much pain to Fitz? Smiling tightly she nodded to Daisy. The bride was just trying to be helpful.

"I wish you all the very best for tomorrow and the future. I'm sure you will be a beautiful bride."

Jemma gave a last smile and wave before she drove off leaving the hotel and Leopold Fitz Coulson behind her.

…

Fitz arrived back soaking wet, angry, and heart-broken. He was a mess. It was going to take him all night to piece himself back together enough to deal with the wedding tomorrow.

There was a knock on his door as he was taking off his soaked shirt. In the mirror he saw Lincoln stick his head in the door.

"I wanted to say thanks. Thanks for not outing me to Daisy." Lincoln stepped fully into the room and shut the door. "I want to tell her when the time is right."

"Don't worry, I'll let you decide when you tell Daisy. You're right timing will be important. I'll let you decide when you'll tell her how you _repeatedly_ screwed her best friend so she won't feel like her world is collapsing around her. She won't feel like you tricked her into marrying you and there's no escape.

"So don't worry Lincoln. Tomorrow I'll smile for the photos and we'll present like a good happy slightly dysfunctional family. And you can deal with Daisy when _you_ are ready. But not tonight. Tonight it's _not_  okay. _I'm_  not going to pretend. Please, get out."

Lincoln looked at Fitz shocked and rattled to his core, but Fitz couldn't muster up the energy to care. He ran a towel over his hair before he fished out his pyjama pants. Once Lincoln left he changed and collapsed into his bed.

Sleep didn't come easily. The last time Fitz cried himself to sleep like this was when his mother had first died. But then he had his dad and Melinda to lean on. He couldn't share this with them. He couldn't show them _this_ side of their son. He was in this alone.

Alone in life. Alone in the bed that under twelve hours ago he'd lain on and thought he had found a life companion to share it with.

…

Jemma didn't get much sleep as she lay on the bed in the small boathouse. At first she tried. But when the hours kept ticking by without sleep she decided to do something.

Picking up her phone she got in touch with the airline to find about the earliest flight she could transfer her ticket onto. When she had all the details she would need, she thanked the person on the line. Hanging up, she sighed wearily. She wasn't going to be able to get a good nights sleep in _this_ bed.

Moving to the chair overlooking the lake Jemma eyed her phone. With a heavy heart she opened it and flinched. She'd forgotten she'd set Fitz goofing off on the bed they were meant to share tonight as her background earlier in the day. Opening her speed dials she quickly called Bobbi.

"What do you do when you're left on the rollercoaster by yourself?" Jemma started not even giving Bobbi a chance to greet her. What's worse is actual vocalising it made her voice catch. She didn't want to cry over this.

_'Tell me everything that's happened.'_

Jemma recounted everything to Bobbi. Her tears finally escaped her when she recounted her fight with Fitz.

_'Oh honey. You're in love with him aren't you?'_

"I think… I think I might," Jemma confessed softly.

_'My boss says that's what it is. Love. Its thoughts. If you're can't stop thinking about them then you're probably already in love. That's what he told me about that British security guy I keep meeting at random conferences. If I couldn't stop thinking about him and not Clint in front of me, maybe that was because I was in love with him. And well, you know my thoughts on **him**.'_

"You'd marry him if you could trust yourself to not want to kill him."

Jemma sighed deeply.

"I'm going to resign from the agency and finish my doctorate. I can't do this anymore. I'm just so sick of it. I'll be on an early flight home and I'll deal with everything then."

_'Okay. But Jemma, remember nothing in life is easy. If you're not willing to stick through the bad how are you going to get to the good?'_

"I'll think some more on it," Jemma said, sarcasm infused into her words.

_'Fly safe, sestra. See you at home.'_

Jemma hung up and stared at the photo of Fitz on her phone well into the night as many thoughts continued to run through her mind.

…

Fitz was retying his tie as his dad watched him from the doorway the next morning. Fitz sighed as he finally met his dad's blue gaze.

"I'm okay," he lied.

His father took some steps to stand right behind him.

"I don't believe you."

"I'm fine really." At the continued look of disbelief and concern Fitz finally elaborated, "Nothing a bottle of Jack and dip in a pool couldn't fix." He gave a forced smile as he took the white rose he was to wear on his lapel. "It doesn’t matter anyway. Today is Daisy's and Lincoln's day."

Fitz avoided his father's unconvinced blue gaze. He will soldier through regardless of his father's concern. Besides, his psychological wellbeing was never a high priority anyway. Just ask Lincoln or Raina.


	13. Marital Madness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitz has a conversation with his mum which helps him come to realisation. Jemma does some soul search on her drive to the airport.  
> But the biggest question of all; who else isn't at the wedding?

Fitz watched as his parents rushed around Lincoln, posing for all the photos the boy Parker was wanting to take of the groom and the groom's family for the 'pre-wedding' part of the photos. Thankfully it wasn't long till they were on their way to the church.

There were a couple photos taken at the church before the photographer had to swing off to take the bridal pictures. That left the group of them just hanging around. Fitz wasn't ready to spend more time with Lincoln than he had to, so he was loitering around outside the church.

He was seated on a small seat when his mum found him. She didn't say anything until she was seated next to him.

"So, why did you give her up?"

Fitz sighed and couldn't meet her eye. Unwilling to explain the whole situation to her he remained silent. He knew it was futile to hope for her to drop it.

"It's complicated, mum," he shakily answered.

That wasn't going to be enough for her but he really didn't want to shatter his family. Not today, of all days.

His mum just watched him.

"Wouldn't have worked out, right?"

Fitz didn't respond. He knew his mum loved him, but he just wanted to be alone to wallow before he had to go back to pretending to be happy for his brother.

"I read a fascinating article in the 'Times' once about the changing view of people's love-lives. The woman said 'Every man has the love life he thinks he deserves'."

Fitz felt his heart leap to his throat. Oh no! Did his mum _know_  who Jemma really was?! Nononononononononononono.

"I agree with her." Fitz's eyes snapped to his mum. "But I refuse to believe that you could think you deserve this."

He looked away in thought. What did that even mean, what he thought he deserved?

"Ever since you were little you always worried too much about how people viewed you. Even when you pretended not to."

Fitz slowly turned to meet her eye again.

"So, what do you think; is she what you want?"

Fitz gave a jerky nod, not giving himself much time to think on it too much.

Yes; he wanted Jemma. He wanted to be what she made him feel like he could be. She didn't dismiss his elaborate ideas. She talked him through _how_ they could even be possible, or some changes that would make them plausible. She made him feel stronger than he'd ever felt with just a smile.

His mum held out the keys to the car.

"Then you know what you have to do."

Fitz grabbed the keys and took three steps before he doubled back, gave his mum a big kiss and hug then resumed his run for the car. Jumping in the car he torn down the roads headed for the boathouse and his perfect woman.

Once he had to leave the car behind he ran the last distance a smile growing on his face the closer he got to the boathouse door. Flinging the door open he called out to her.

And was met with silence.

The bed was made. All the rooms were tidy. And sitting on the chair overlooking the lake was an envelope with his name on it. Turning the envelope over, he saw she'd left a message;

_'It's all there. Trust me.'_

She hadn't taken his money.

Fitz felt his heart sink. Not only wasn't he a job to her; he… he'd thrown all her overtures to tell him that earlier in her face. She'd chosen him, and he'd turned his back on her. Hell, he kicked her out of their room last night.

Re-pocketing his money he began the walk back to the car at a much slower pace.

…

Jemma tried to calm her racing mind as the country view raced past her. She was doing the right thing. He wanted her gone so she was going.

Her heavy heart at leaving him behind was… was irrelevant.

It was a symptom of _her_ problem. Not his.

Then why did this feel like the worst decision she was ever going to make?

Worse than not making it the interview Professor Weaver had organised for her, which she later found out was for a job with Mr Stark and Dr Banner. Worse than after she'd entered that fight with her mum, which had left things permanently strained between them. Worse than the expose she accidently lead Bobbi's editor Gonzales to.

What was she going to do?

Jemma pulled the car off the road.

She was a woman of science. But after all the years she's spent escorting she's honed an instinct and learnt to trust it.

They were telling her to turn back **_now_**.

Smacking the steering wheel in frustration she turned the car around, started driving back into the tiny town and the church.

Bobbi was right. If this is what she wanted she should be willing to fight for it; to have it; to keep it.

Just as she was passing the small Town Hall Jemma saw a very unusual and unexpected sight.

A woman in a white dress was chasing a woman in a pale blue one down the street. As she got closer she saw it was Daisy chasing Raina.

What on Earth had happened at the church?

She lowered her window to ask what was going on, but was silenced by the argument being yelled between them.

"Calm down Daisy!" she hear Raina yell while the two were doing laps of a fountain. "It's all sorted, he wants you!"

Daisy didn't stop and kept after Raina as she ran down a street again. Following in the car Jemma wasn't sure if she should actually intervene.

"What's the problem?"

"You backstabbing slut!"

Raina tripped over her shoes and Daisy managed to grab onto her dress.

"It was before you two were even dating!"

Raina pulled herself away as Daisy ripped away part of the dress, and kicking off her shoes Raina resumed running.

"You were engaged to his brother!" Daisy cried throwing the material away and following.

"Calm down! We can be civil about this!"

Jemma kept following them as the chase continued. At one point she was driving slowly next to a running Daisy while Raina was far ahead. The lost shoes really helpful in letting Raina gain ground.

Daisy looked over to Jemma and shouted, "I look like a total fool don't I?"

"Yeah," Jemma nodded with a laugh. Jemma stopped the car. "Get in the car, Daisy. Just forget about Raina, she's half way to Canada by now."

Daisy stopped running and breathed deeply. After standing there for a while watching her _former_  best friend run away Daisy walked up to the car and got in.

...

Fitz pulled up to the church and was surprised by the amount of people milling outside. Why did the Johnsons look so stressed? Oh no, what had Lincoln done?

"Fitz!" his dad called looking just as harried as the Johnsons. "Where have you been?"

"I had to quickly check something. What's happened?"

"Lincoln suddenly says he _has_  to speak to Daisy before the ceremony," his dad explained. "The next thing we know she's chasing her maid of honour out of the church and down to the town!"

"How did it go?" his mum asked him. The only indication that things weren't going to plan was a wrinkle in her brow.

"Empty except for a note."

Stepping into the side room Lincoln was pacing in, Fitz just stood there being a silent presence for him. As soon as Lincoln saw Fitz he slumped down into a chair, putting his head in his hands.

"You told her the truth," Fitz wasn't malicious, he was simply confirming what he had deduced.

"Yeah," Lincoln croaked. "I… I couldn't stop thinking about what you said. I didn’t want her to feel like I tricked or trapped her into this." A small sob broke from his lips. "I've destroyed everything."

Fitz put a supportive hand on Lincoln's shoulder.

"The one good, perfect thing in my life, and I destroyed it. I love Daisy." Lincoln looked up and his eyes begged his brother, "You do believe me on that don't you?"

"No one doubts the love between you and Daisy."

"She's too good for me. She's…" his head slumped and Fitz pulled him into a one armed hug.

"Daisy'll be back," Fitz said confidently. He pulled Lincoln's head back and patted his cheek. "She loves this ugly mug too much, for some reason."

Lincoln let out a chocked laugh.

…

Jemma followed the directions Daisy gave her to a beautiful view of the town.

"Raina slept with Lincoln," Daisy said almost as soon as she cut the engine. Jemma's lack of reaction must have given her away. "But you already knew that."

Jemma decided not to comment and just let Daisy decide if they'd talk or not.

"You know," she started annoyance colouring her voice, "I felt sorry for you last night. I was sitting there like a suck up little bitch thinking, 'aren't I so damn lucky?!' I mean, I knew he was hooking up with someone when we first actually got together, and I was cool with it being some random, but not _Raina_."

Jemma again remained silent not sure what she could even say here.

"I've had him up in this pedestal ever since…" Daisy sighed, realising what she was saying. "Ever since I put him there."

Jemma met her eyes and could read the plea for some words of wisdom radiating from them. Jemma gathered her own raging thoughts and as she was trying to form words for Daisy she realised what Bobbi had been trying to tell her without outright telling her.

"The hardest thing is loving someone and having the courage to let them love you back."

She knew it sounded like a horrid cliché and an old saying, but there was so much truth in it.

"But if you know his story and he knows yours, and at the end of the day you'd rather give up than try… well, nothing's ever going to be worth it."

Jemma could see Daisy really thinking. She looked like she wanted to go back, but at the same time… she just needed one more push.

"Look at it this way," Jemma offered, fighting off her own grin, "you go back now, and you can spend the rest of your life having really great make up sex."

…

Fitz was pacing outside the church. No one had heard from Daisy in nearly an hour. Her parents were trying to get answers from the Coulson family. Information that his parents didn't know, and he and his brother weren't willing to give.

Just as the idea of sending everyone off home was starting to look like the best option, a car pulled up and Daisy came running out of it.

"Daisy?!" Fitz tried to call to her, but she just ran past him.

"Gotta run Fitz-y boy," she called headed straight for where their parents were gather arguing.

Fitz opened his mouth to shout another question but it died in his throat when he saw who else was in the car.

Jemma.

She was here! She hadn't left! She'd come back!

A million thoughts ran through his head at once. So many words he wanted to say to her. Things he _needed_  to explain to her. His heart was racing. He had to do this now. But suddenly his throat was closing up on him and he struggled to get any words out.

"Hi," he managed to breathe when she was in front of him.

"Hi," Jemma smiled coyly back.

They both started to talk over the top of each other, but Jemma put her hands up indicating she wanted to go first. Reluctantly he nodded and let her.

"Last night, when we were fighting I thought this was it. I _was_ going to just leave but… then I realised, there could be so much more to this between us, if I'd just stuck by your side the whole damn time. And more than that; there is nowhere else I'd rather be."

Fitz couldn't fight his grin as he cupped her face and pulled her into a sweet and loving kiss. He was loath to part with her, but a small voice in the back of his mind reminded him that today was his brother's wedding day- not his day.

Jemma took a step back, "Oh, I should get a move on."

"What?! No, you can't," Fitz objected lacing his fingers with hers and squeezing tightly.

"I have to," Jemma said seriously. Then a grin crossed her face as her head inclined to the church, "I need to get changed; I'm now the maid of honour."

Shocked Fitz let go and watched as she raced to the side room Daisy and her family had been prepping in. When she got close Fitz heard Daisy making a loud fuss about how quickly they could get Jemma into Izzy's dress.

…

The ceremony was beautiful and regardless of the dirt that laced the bottom of Daisy's dress the bride was radiant. Whenever Jemma managed to drag her eyes away from Fitz to notice the couple, that is. Not that Fitz was doing much better than she was.

Surprisingly whoever Izzy was, she had a very similar build to Jemma and the dress fit wonderfully. Aside from the smallest of adjustments that, thankfully, were being held with safety pins.

It felt like no time at all when they found themselves at the reception and everyone was looking at Fitz expectantly for his speech. He'd decided to forego the usual embarrassing tale involving the groom that was stereotypical of the wedding speeches. Quietly telling Jemma there had been more than enough drama at the wedding without him adding any more fuel to the fire. So Fitz kept it short and sweet.

"Daisy, there is no one in the world who knows how to love my kid brother better than you. Lincoln, I think you understand just how lucky you really you are. Be good to each other. To Daisy and Lincoln!"

The rest of the reception joined in the toast.

The bride and groom took to the floor for their first dance. Jemma smiled with the rest of the reception as the couple remained lost in each other. The first couple to take to the floor and join them were the Johnsons. Jemma was surprised when Phil offered his hand to her.

"I know we've just met, but I want to thank you," Phil said.

"Thank me?"

"You brought Daisy back to the church and I've never seen both my boys this happy in…" Phil looked over and Jemma noticed Fitz was dancing with Melinda not far from them. "Well, ever I think. So, thank you for saving my Fitz."

Jemma shook her head, "It was the other way around."

"Reguardless; you've inspired the best in my boy and I can't begin to thank you enough."

He spun her out and she gave a small cry of surprise when she was pulled into new arms.

"Don’t mind if I cut in on this dance?" Fitz asked.

Phil sighed from where he'd planted himself. "My dance partner's been stolen; by my own son!"

"Let the young ones have their moment Phil," he wife chastised him, pulling him off the dance floor.

Jemma grinned at Fitz as he pulled her in closer. The pair swayed lost to themselves and the music.

"Having a good time?" Fitz asked.

"Time of my life. You?"

"Never been better."

…

After the wedding…

Daisy and Lincoln discovered that makeup sex _was_  worth having a fight.

Jemma did quit the business and finished her doctorate. Fitz took her out to celebrate. She paid for half.

And Raina… well, she learnt nothing at all…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this is it. I was going to have this chapter in two parts, but one just felt needlessly short to build up tension, that I don't feel there's a following to justify. Even if I was doing the chapters based around the movie's scene chapters- I don't have rolling hills to pan to nor did I suddenly want to include new POVs to beef it out.   
> I hope you've enjoyed this. If you have you should check out the actually movie- there are some jokes I had to strap from that because they're just funnier (or work-guys don't have gynecologists! and neither of them were at the wedding to see that moment...) when its the opposite gender I set them as in this or even would have involved doubling up explaining events from the others POV just for _one_ line.  
>  Thank you to all those who have left kudos and commenting- You're the reason I maintained the nerve to keep slowly posting and not just dump it all here once I'd finished my edits so THANK YOU thank you thank you!

**Author's Note:**

> This is riddled with hints and nods to lots of characters from the MCU (or in one case the actual movie). Please let me know how I'm doing with this, this is kind of an experiment with how I'd do writing this kind of story and I need other opinions to be able to have any real idea how I'm doing. Thanks for reading and I hope you've enjoyed it.


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